Horse
by nebbyJen
Summary: A recent shipment of fresh supplies to Atlantis brings a new kind of trouble to Sheppard and the rest of the gang.
1. Chapter 1

**Horse** by NebbyJen

Summary: A recent shipment of fresh supplies to Atlantis brings a new kind of trouble to Sheppard and the rest of the gang.

Rated: Teen

Spoilers/Season: The Hive / Season 2 (When I wrote this, I didn't know about the SGC's new ship. So, this takes place after the destruction of the Prometheus, but before the appearance of the Odyssey.)

Category: Friendship / Drama / H/C

Beta: Gaffer. (But of course, any mistake, and there always is one no matter how hard I try, is my fault because I just can't leave well enough alone.)

Author's Note: Atlantis doesn't belong to me.

(11-6-2010 A story is never completely finished. After recent review, I've noticed that 'ing' is used way too often in my writing style. That is about to fixed. If this looks a little different from other posts or what you remember, hopefully, you'll approve.)

Horse: A basketball game of two or more players, or a slang term for Heroin.

**Part 1**

Tumultuous wind thundered hard across the open pier, practically taking Sheppard off his feet as he stood with his hand over his eyes, his gaze fixed on the Daedalus as it rose smoothly from Atlantis. No matter how many times he'd watched the large ship come and go, he still couldn't get over just how cool it was to know that Earth had that out there flying around in space. Finally at it's apex, a mere pinpoint lost in the sky, he glanced away. His focus shifted to the hundreds of supply-filled crates piled about on the open pier.

The Daedalus's latest visit reminded him of a hit and run. Once Caldwell had come striding out the open bay door of his ship, he'd thrust the manifest at Sheppard, grunted orders for him to supervise the unloading while the latest SGC developments were discussed with Weir. Two hours later, all business completed, he'd promptly returned to his vessel. In his brief absence, the replacement team members scurried off the ship while those with injuries that required more extensive treatment were carefully bundled up to be sent home. And sadly, so were those who would never know of their return to Earth. They were carried away with little to show of their service to Atlantis except for a few personal items tucked inside a military duffel and cold remains in a body bag.

Time was of the essence and everyone knew what needed to be done. The destruction of the Prometheus left Earth vulnerable when their only battleship was off in the Pegasus Galaxy. And now it was up to Atlantis to take care of the rest.

"All right people," Sheppard announced over the comm. system, "we've got work to do. Teams two and three, you can start with supplies. Team one; you help locate quarters for our latest additions." Hands on his hips, his eyes hidden from the bright sun behind dark glasses, he watched the hustle. This is what he liked to see, the awkwardness of the early days now replaced by well oiled teams.

"Need a hand?" rumbled the familiar voice of his team's newest addition.

He quirked a grin over his shoulder and nodded towards a stacks of crates. "Care to help me find the skid labeled 'Sheppard Equipment'?"

Ronon merely grunted, plucked the manifest free from Sheppard's hand, and lumbered off for the pile. A pair of techs had directed a lift over for its removal but backed away at his brusque approach. He ignored them and checked the tag against the list. A scrunched face showed annoyance before he moved to the next stack.

Sheppard ambled over to the men once Dex was out of sight. "Don't mind him; he's just looking for the latest supplies for the mess. I think he's hungry."

"Actually, sir," the first tech replied with his hand on the crates, "these are the supplies for the mess." Peeling back part of the plastic, he uncovered the word 'Jello'.

"Oh." The same look that had crossed Ronon's face crossed his own. "Sure that isn't part of Dr. Beckett's supplies?"

The second tech shook his head 'no' and grinned. "Sorry, sir, his has yet to be unpacked."

Eyeing the crate, Sheppard shot a mischievous glance towards the churning water off the edge of the pier. "Probably no chance that might just fall over, is there?"

"Sir, if we did that, Dr. McKay might not have anything to complain about during dinner."

That earned the young technician a raised brow from behind the sunglasses and he swallowed nervously. "Sir?"

"Don't let him hear you say that…" Sheppard glanced down at the name on the man's shirt, "Webster. The more Dr. McKay grouses, the happier he is. And we need to keep him happy. Understood?"

"Yes, sir. Sorry, sir."

Sheppard smirked as he walked away, catching the older tech giving the younger a cuff across the back of the head. He couldn't hear what was being said, but he had a pretty good idea. Spying Ronon as he passed between a stack of crates with his long knife drawn, he decided he needed to catch up. By the time he rounded the corner, sheets of loose plastic lay scattered on the ground and the knife had been slipped back in its sheath.

"Found them," Ronon said without turning around, knowing who was behind him. "What're in these?"

Unhinging the clasp on the top crate, Sheppard grinned like a kid on Christmas morning. With a quick glance back and forth to make sure no one else was near, he revealed a supply of round balls of various colors buried in white packing peanuts.

Ronon reached in and touched one, his face a confused scowl. "Toys?"

"No, not toys, sports equipment." Hefting a basketball free from the static charged peanuts, Sheppard began to dribble back and forth in front of Dex.

The runner did not look impressed. "Like I said, toys."

That stopped Sheppard bouncing the ball and he put it back in the crate, before he pushed aside more packing material to check on the other contents. "Look, sports are a way to burn off energy, create better teamwork, and get some of these people around here some much needed exercise."

Plucking a cylinder of yellow balls free, Ronon raised a bored brow.

"Tennis balls. You hit them over a net with a racket." Tucking the can back inside the crate before anyone else saw, Sheppard relatched the seal and smiled, "Trust me, this is gonna be fun."

The large man didn't look impressed as he helped lift several of the smaller crates onto a hand pulled trolley, surprised to discover the bottom larger ones to be much heavier. "What's in these?"

Sheppard studied his pile of equipment, judging each container before looking satisfied. "Must be the backboards." A forklift rounded the corner and stopped in front of the pair before he had a chance to continue.

"Colonel Sheppard," the driver called out over the hum of the machine, "where would you like me to put these, sir?"

"How about you stack them inside the pier entranceway for now?"

The driver nodded, before lifting the heavy crates off the landing pad. "Do you want me to take those also?" he asked nodding to the pile on the trolley beside Dex.

"We got them. Thanks, Lieutenant," he answered with a wave. Once the lift disappeared back around another stack and headed towards the main pier doors, the colonel grinned. "Let's get these put away and then go see who we might round up for a little round ball later on."

Dex easily maneuvered the cart as he followed the colonel, listening to the man ramble about playing Horse. His grumbled, "I can hardly wait," was not said loud enough for anyone else to catch.

SG: A

The pair worked their way down through the crowded corridors leading to the science labs. Several unloaded crates were strewn alongside the wall with more packing peanuts spilling out across the floor. In other sections, long strips of the plastic wrap seemed to take on a life of its own, sticking to the bottom of mindless scientist's shoes, while being dragged unceremoniously through the chaos before the wearer shook it off and left it to lie where it landed.

The closer they got to McKay's area, the louder the noise level grew. Several voices could be heard yelling back and forth. One was clearly Rodney's, but the other was unfamiliar.

Picking up the pace, Sheppard and Ronon shoved their way past several frightened junior scientists filling the entranceway, only to bring themselves to a dead stop in their tracks. There in the middle of the room stood one of McKay's assistants, shaking a piece of Ancient equipment in the air over Zelenka's unmoving body, while Rodney tried to convince the man to put the thing down and move away from Radek.

"You're not listening to me!" the assistant cried out.

Rodney took another hesitant step closer towards Zelenka while he kept his eyes fixed on the shivering individual. "David, put that down before you hurt somebody else. Do you have any idea what Dr. Zelenka will do to you once he gets back on his feet?"

Ronon shifted to take up a position behind the man McKay called David, but stopped when Sheppard motioned him to stay still.

"We don't know what he's holding," Sheppard whispered. "Let's see if Rodney can get him to hand it over first." Slowly raising his hand to his ear, he activated his comm unit. "This is Sheppard. I have an emergency in the main science lab and need a security detail and medical assistance." Ignoring the immediate chatter back, he kept his eyes focused on the two standing figures in the middle of the room. "Come on, McKay," he urged quietly, itching to step in and take over.

Rodney was now an arms length away from the other scientist. "Give it to me," he instructed slowly. "David, if you drop that, Atlantis is going to sink like a stone."

"No, you're just saying that," the younger man stammered, his whole body shaking as he took a step back. "I know what this is. You're lying to me. You just want to hurt me. Make me go away."

Shifting uncomfortably on his feet, Rodney shook his head. "That's not true. I just don't want to see you hurt anyone else. Look what you did to Dr. Zelenka. He needs medical attention."

David licked his lips; his eyes flickered over the figure on the floor. "I… I didn't mean, didn't mean to hurt him."

Hearing the sound of running footsteps coming down the hallway, Rodney allowed himself a brief glance towards the doorway and spotted Sheppard and Ronon, with Carson directly behind them. "If you didn't mean to hurt him, then let me get him medical help."

"No." David was no longer able to stand still. Rubbing his nose on the back of his sleeve, he glanced nervously over towards the doorway to see who else might be watching. "Stay back!"

Radek groaned painfully, his hand slowly moving to touch the side of his head. "What hit me?" he asked without opening his eyes.

"Don't move," Rodney ordered his colleague, his eyes locked on the swaying figure before him. "David, what did you take?"

The young man blinked in surprise at the question. "Nothing," he answered belligerently.

"Don't lie to me!" Rodney's snap made all in the room jump at his angry tone. Straightening his shoulders, he stepped over Radek, forcing David to take another step back. "You think I don't recognize the symptoms? What are you, stupid as well as foolish? I've been where you are. I know what happens when your body wants more junk." He took another step forward.

David's shaking increased, the ancient device held perilously loose in his fingertips looked ready to fall. "Stay away from me."

"I can get you help. The same way they helped me."

"No, no, no. You don't understand. It hurts," he whimpered, taking another step back and coming in contact with a work table. Startled, he turned to look behind himself and Rodney made his move.

Using determination he saved for only truly desperate moments, he snatched the device and clutched it to his chest, giving David a slight push to knock him out of the way, before he ran for the room's entrance. "Clear the hall!" he shouted and witnessed several security members duck into nearby doorways.

With Sheppard close on his heels, he made it to an empty storage room and tossed the piece of equipment before he was tackled to the floor. Both men covered their heads as a forceful explosion ripped through the air, raining debris out into the hallway.

**TBC**


	2. Chapter 2

**Part 2**

Rolling over onto his back, Sheppard took a moment to watch a cloud of smoke waft along the ceiling, before letting his eyes close in relief. "I thought you said we would sink like a stone."

"The kid was right," Rodney groaned, rolling over onto his own back, "I lied. What he was holding couldn't have done more than that." He waved his hand toward the now mangled room. "But, if it had come in contact with what Radek and I had been working on…you and I wouldn't be talking."

"Oh."

"Yeah, oh."

They both stayed on the floor, waiting for the ringing in their ears to fade, and thinking about the 'what could have happened'.

"You two gonna get up or do I have to get Beckett?"

Sheppard cracked an eye and found Ronon standing beside them. If he didn't know better, he'd almost say the big guy looked concerned. Giving McKay a nudge with his elbow, he chuckled at hearing the disgusted sigh. "What do you think, up for a little round ball after we check on the others, and this gets taken care of?"

Rodney pushed himself up on his elbows, a look of total disbelief washing over his face, before he snorted and shook his head. Accepting Ronon's hand, he let the runner pull him to his feet. The room didn't sway, nothing felt broken. Giving his back a twist, he stood up straighter and realized he'd come away from this whole fiasco unscathed. "I take it your toybox got delivered," he answered, stepping over rubble while making his way back to his lab.

The other two followed close behind and Sheppard didn't miss the dry look from Ronon. "Sports equipment, McKay. And not so loud."

SG: A

By the time they stepped back into the lab, David had already been escorted out by security to be taken to the infirmary. They found Carson kneeling beside Radek, who was now sitting propped against a table holding an ice pack against the side of his head. Hearing the men's voices, they both looked up.

"Are you two all right?" Carson asked, his eyes giving them both a quick once over.

"I'm good," Sheppard answered with a shrug. "Rodney?"

His arms folded against his chest and already prowling through his lab, the scientist paused to take care of a sudden itch on his shoulder. "Nothing an ice cold beer wouldn't take care of." When the others remained quiet, he huffed and snapped back at them. "What?"

"It's just that…well, that's not something we usually hear you say." Sheppard watched his friend closely.

"Look, I'm Canadian. It's been a long day. We drink beer." Waving his arms around the lab, he motioned towards the strewn packing material littering the floor. "Get over it." He turned to Zelenka, "Are you going to get up or should I plan on having a work station built around you?"

Radek appeared to consider it a moment, before nodding and accepting Rodney's offer of help from up off the floor. "What happened?"

"He'll tell us all on the way back to the infirmary. Won't you, Rodney?" Carson's expression left no room for discussion as he took up Radek's other arm.

"Actually, I feel good. I thought I'd stay here and..."

"Rodney." Carson's burr had a bite to it.

"Fine, just fine." Exasperated, the scientist snagged Sheppard by the sleeve on his way out of the room. "If I go, you go," he growled.

"Sorry, McKay, but Ronon and I need to get everyone's statements."

"Colonel Sheppard," Beckett cut in, "you were also in the vicinity of the blast. Rodney's correct, you get to join us."

A protest formed on his lips, but he decided to keep quiet when the physician merely glared at him and raised a brow. "Fine, I'm coming. Ronon…"

"Got it covered," the large man said with a smirk, happy that for once he got to avoid all of the poking and prodding.

Sheppard glanced around the room before leaving, shaking his head in disgust. "All I wanted to do was come down here and round up some players. But, noooo…" his complaints faded as the group disappeared down the hallway.

SG: A

Several hours had passed before Sheppard finally made his way back to the pier. Once they all got cleared by Carson, reports had been filed, more reports given to Weir, and this David character had been taken care of, he allowed himself the luxury of going back to grab a couple of his new toys. Along the way, he'd swung by engineering and helped himself to some necessary tools. No one bothered to ask him what for, or stop him, and now he triggered a cordless drill as he walked. How hard could it be to put a couple of backboards together?

His thoughts roamed over the events of the day as he opened one of the large crates. Shoving packing material out of the way, he carefully lifted a pair of black steel rims and then the sealed bag containing the nets. Underneath those lie the boards and small box of hardware.

They'd have to wait for Beckett's tox reports to come back before they knew what the scientist had taken. McKay had been adamant that he knew nothing and had never seen any drug paraphernalia on any of his science team members.

When Sheppard was able to have a private moment with Radek, he questioned him about the possibility of Rodney doing anything out of character. He hated to ask, but after the enzyme incident, he didn't have a choice. Especially now, with an episode in the lab so soon after, this would definitely raise questions among the rest of the crew.

The scientist was infuriated at the implied assumption. Backing Rodney completely, he'd stalked out of the infirmary, raising more than a few heads in curiosity with his string of vehement non-English cursing.

The drill buzzed in his hand as he zipped the screws in place to hold the rim snug against the backboard.

Radek's still was common knowledge. And although, technically, it was against regulations, as long as things didn't get out of hand, a blind eye was turned. But drugs… He blew out a deep breath.

Leaning the first completed board against the empty crate, he started on the second.

Were drugs made here? Did someone bring stuff back from off world? Was something smuggled onboard the Daedalus?

The second board finished, he stood up and surveyed his work. It was kind of nice to be down here, away from everyone else, working in the quiet, not even his comm to squawk at him at exactly the wrong moment. Now all he needed were the posts. Glancing around his pile, he didn't see anything that could possibly hold what he was looking for. "Great," he mumbled, "I'm so close."

Picking up the drill and a long handled screw driver, he weaved his way through more towering stacks before spotting several long, heavily wrapped in more of the dreaded plastic, objects propped up against the far wall. They could only be his missing posts.

Ready to complete his mission, he was about to step forward when his instincts yanked him to a stop. Staying in place, he listened a moment before picking out the sound of men talking quietly from somewhere close by. Considering the hour, and the fact that he'd been the one to turn on the lights when he'd first arrived, it was odd that no one had called out to see who else was in the area.

His back to the crates, he slowly worked his way around to get a better view before spying two individuals recklessly cracking the seals off of several boxes. They littered supplies across the floor in search of something. When the larger one, who seemed to have come from the same gene pool as Ronon, stopped and suddenly slapped the second across the back, they both began ripping more items out of the crate.

"Told you they were here," the big one said.

The second man, who had a scary resemblance to that Canadian gate tech, reached back in and lifted out a bag filled with hundreds of red capsules. "Pope, man, you are a genius. How in the hell did you ever get these past the watchdogs?"

The man named Pope just laughed and turned around to make sure no one was watching, and that was when Sheppard realized the man was wearing a Daedalus security uniform. "Son of a bitch," he mumbled, reaching for his sidearm and realizing he was still holding the cordless drill and screwdriver.

He worked his way back through the maze of crates, staying in the shadows. Without his comm, he needed to find a way to call in some reinforcements, or hell, just get a hold of Dex. Rounding a corner, he missed seeing a sheet of the dreaded plastic packaging wrap on the floor before it got caught up on the bottom of his boot and snagged underneath one of the backboards. The slight tug caused the board to slide and before he could stop it, it clattered against the floor with a bang.

"What was that?" he heard bad guy number one ask. When the area grew silent, Sheppard knew the pair had set out to investigate so he slipped silently around several more crates.

"Pope, someone's been here. There's a couple of backboards built over here," number two yelled from across the room. "Looks like one fell."

The man named Pope didn't answer and Sheppard remained still, knowing the first guy was still looking.

"Pope, where'd you go?"

"Shut up!"

The smaller guy hugged the bag of drugs tightly to his chest as he peered cautiously between several crates, trying to spot his partner. He didn't notice Sheppard emerging from behind him until it was too late. Dropping the bag, he slowly raised his hands in the air when he felt the nose of a gun press between his shoulder blades.

"Don't move," Sheppard growled, his free hand patting the other man in search of weapons and not finding any.

When Pope's partner saw his captor's foot hook on the bag of capsules on the floor and start to pull it behind them, he knew he was rapidly running out of options. "Sheppard has a gun!" he yelled suddenly, while trying to ram his elbow into the colonel's stomach.

Prepared for such a move, Sheppard stepped sideways and hit the man on the back of the head with the drill. "Now, see, that was a mistake," he whispered as he hunkered down to retrieve a couple of the smaller bags of capsules that had spilled out of the broken larger one. Stuffing them in his pocket, he began to edge his way back into the shadows when he heard someone rapidly advancing towards his position.

"Colonel Sheppard!" Pope shouted angrily when he came across his downed partner on the floor.

Sheppard slipped farther back, getting himself a better shot of making it to the hallway. If he could only reach the wall unit. Before he had the chance to try, a cold voice spoke venomously from the darkness nearby.

"Colonel, I've heard so much about you. Why don't you throw down your gun?"

Still partially hidden in the shadows, he glanced down at the drill in his hand, and then looked around from his spot to see where the man might be hiding. "Can't say as I've heard much about you," he called back.

"That's too bad," Pope replied, his voice emanating from behind one of the stacks. "Can't say that you'll be getting the chance to either."

"Oh, I don't know about that," Sheppard drawled quietly. Hearing something move off to his right, he chucked the drill overhead to land somewhere farther off in that direction.

A startled yelp and then a string of cuss words flew hotly. "Pope!" little bad guy yelled.

Sheppard swore softly, he still didn't have a bead on where this Pope guy was hiding. Fingering the long screwdriver he had gripped tightly in his hand, he weighed his options, before deciding to make a run for it.

**TBC**


	3. Chapter 3

**Part 3**

Pope must have suspected what Sheppard was about to do, for he suddenly appeared from around the side of the stack, running in a direct intercept path between his prey and the wall unit. The crush of the flying tackle knocked the colonel hard to the floor, his breath momentarily pushed out of his chest before he could turn over. When the other man scrambled to get a better grip on his leg to keep him down, Sheppard used his free foot to kick his assailant in the head, sending him tumbling backwards across the open floor with a grunt.

"You up for a tussle, Colonel?" Wiping blood from his split lip across the back of his hand, the drug runner sneered as he jumped to his feet and pulled a utility knife free from the clip on his belt. He waved the razor sharp blade back and forth in the air, waiting for a chance to strike.

"Honestly, I had other plans for my evening. What do you say you put that down before someone gets hurt?"

"Little too late for that, don't you think?" Pope took another step to the side, positioning himself between Sheppard and the nearest exit. "JT!" he bellowed, the knife still held out while his eyes flickered to the side, looking for his cohort.

The sound of an engine rumble came from somewhere deep in the stacks, before the bright front light of the forklift cut a straight beam in their direction. Grinding the gears before getting it right, JT shot the machine forward, the two protruding tines rising in the air like horns on an angry bull.

Sheppard shot a quick glance at the advancing vehicle and then to Pope. Deciding on the lesser of two evils, he bolted back into the shadows of the supplies the second Pope looked away.

He skidded through a pile of strewn equipment, and then grimaced when he slipped on packing peanuts only to wind up with his right knee jammed painfully against the floor. It was hard to see where he was going in sections of the dimmed area, but determined not to end his day stuck like a shish kabob on the front of a forklift, he ignored the tight pull in his kneecap and palmed the controls to the mammoth double doors leading out to the open pier.

The deep rumble within the surrounding walls made him smile. At least one thing worked in his favor. He counted to two before jamming the screwdriver into the control unit, creating a colorful shower of sparks down the wall, followed by an abrupt silence, broken only by the grind of the advancing machine. Let's see them get that damn thing out on the pier now, he thought to himself.

Weaving silently between the towering stacks, he worked his way closer to the partially open bay doors, praying he'd given them enough time to at least crack apart so he could squeeze through. This was one time that being skinny was really going to work in his favor.

"Where do you think you're gonna go, colonel?" Pope shouted out from somewhere behind him. "Awfully cold and dark out there at night, and we'd hate for you to have an accident."

Sheppard refused to be baited, knowing the others were trying to get him to give up his position. With the stealth of a cat, he made it to the edge of the maze of crates without being spotted, and he could make out the narrow opening to the dark pier only a few meters away. A quick glance of the area revealed no sign of Pope, JT, or the forklift, but he knew they had to be close, just waiting for him.

Mentally, he gave himself a three count before rushing across the open space and quickly forcing his body to squeeze through the gap. Cold night air helped boost his adrenalin as he popped free on the other side and began to run again. The sound of gunfire ricocheting off the doors behind him let him know that his little exit hadn't been missed.

SG: A

The crescent moon high in the dark sky cast little light down on the enormous landing pier, and Sheppard stumbled several times as he came in contact with unfamiliar obstacles in his way. One fall caused him to land on his already sore knee and he bit back a curse as he clutched his leg to his chest, trying to control his breathing as waves of pain radiated from his toes to his hair.

But time was of the essence and he didn't have the option to rest. With the light of the lift piercing out across the darkness while the two men inside tried to use the machine to pry the reluctant doors apart, he could hear the heavy grinding as they grudgingly gave way. Struggling back to his feet, he chuckled at the thought of how pissed the engineering team was going to be when they had to fix those. And he didn't even want to think what McKay might have to say about it.

Rodney. Shit. He shook his head, hobbling cautiously along the edge of the pier. This was the last thing the scientist needed. People going off all around him in drug crazed stupors, reminding him of what had happened just a short time ago.

The beam of light shifted from the entranceway and now bobbled with the lift's jerky movements out across the pier. Apparently Pope and JT were a little more resilient than he'd given the pair credit for. He followed the silhouette of the larger man stalking through the darkness, waving what had to be a gun in his right hand. Good, he'd gotten rid of the knife. For some reason, Sheppard had always found it easier to disarm an assailant who carried a gun, less chance of injury he believed.

"Colonel, no one knows you're out here but us," Pope taunted. "I figure you have two choices. One, keep hiding until I find you and put a bullet in your head. Or, two, join us. There's enough to go around. Atlantis is a big place. I could use someone on the inside." He kept walking, his eyes taking in every detail he passed. Finding an overturned crate next to a spot of dry deck, he crouched down for a closer look, his hands running over a deep dent in the side. "Kind of hard to see in the dark," he called out, motioning to JT to turn the lift so that the light was cast in a new direction, towards the water's edge.

Sheppard tucked himself behind a large piece of the ventilation system and waited. There wasn't a lot on this pier for him to hide behind, so he knew it was only a matter of time before Pope headed in his direction. Without any weapons, and his knee refusing to cooperate, his only option was to try and take the large man down. Every muscle tight in anticipation, he held his breath as the distance between them closed.

Pope's pace slowed as he neared the edge, his grip tightening on the gun. Licking his lips, he stepped cautiously towards the object sticking out the edge of the pier. "Come out, come out, wherever you are," he goaded quietly in a singsong voice, while waving his free hand behind his back.

JT shut off the lift engine after catching Pope's signal. Moving slowly towards his boss, he nervously looked back and forth for the missing colonel. "Maybe he made it back inside," he hissed.

The larger man shook his head 'no'.

Sheppard held his breath so as not to give away his position.

The silence was deafening, broken only by the sound of the water pounding against the side of Atlantis.

JT looked in the opposite direction as a wave further down pushed water up over the deck.

Pope stopped close to Atlantis's edge and leaned forward to look over the side.

One more step, Sheppard's mind ordered.

Another large swell broke over the side of the deck, spraying water high in the air, breaking Pope's concentration.

In the blink of an eye, Sheppard hurtled forward to catch the drug dealer unaware around the waist, before knocking both of them over the side into the dark frothing water.

SG: A

The brief fall before the splash wasn't enough time for Sheppard to prepare himself for the cold impact. Water rushed over him, sucking him under with terrifying swiftness. Not able to catch his breath, he choked on a mouthful of seawater. His eyes burned from the sting of salt as his arms flailed desperately to drag himself towards the surface. Tiny points of light filled his vision as his body demanded air.

Kicking with everything he had, his injured knee numb from the cold, he breached the surface and filled his burning lungs with oxygen before a hand grabbed his collar from behind and thrust him back under. It was pitch black beneath the water and he fought to free himself from Pope's iron like grasp.

Twisting sideways, his arm tucked with his fist to his chest, he used his elbow to hammer the other man in the groin, instantly gaining his freedom. He could feel Pope's feet moving erratically beside him as the big man tried to stay afloat.

With a determined pull of his arms, Sheppard broke through the churning water again, spluttering as he gasped to fill his lungs. He didn't have a chance to get his bearings before another wave pushed him hard against the side of Atlantis, pulling him back under.

His hands grasped for anything to hold on to before he gave the churning ocean another chance to pummel him against the side of Atlantis. Pushed up briefly once more, he choked on salt water before catching his breath. He could barely make out the figures of Pope and JT standing on the edge of the deck before another large wave pushed him further down the side of Atlantis away from the drug runners.

The warmth of his body leeched by the cold, Sheppard was rapidly loosing his ability to stay afloat. His fingers scrabbled over Atlantis during the next wave's push and he latched onto a grate of some sort, anchoring himself against the pull of the undercurrent. Just a few more minutes, he told himself, before he'd climb out. By then, the others would, hopefully, have given up looking for him.

SG: A

JT's eyes were wide as he stared at his boss prowling the water's edge, searching the darkness for the colonel. "Let's get out of here. He's gone. There's no way he could stay under that long."

The soaked figure growled unintelligibly, anger rolling off of him in waves. "If he isn't dead, by the time I'm done with him, he'll wish he was."

Pope worked his way further along the edge, disappearing into the darkness, leaving the smaller man to stand nervously alone. "Do you want me to go get the stuff?" he yelled. Not getting an answer, he looked back towards the light streaming out from the partially open doors and then back into the inky night. "I'll be right back, don't go anywhere."

He trotted back inside to where the spilled bag still lay strewn across the floor. Scooping up all of the smaller bags of capsules, he stuffed them in his pockets before heading back to the original crate and peering inside. The other item still lay untouched. Carefully lifting it, he turned it over in his hand and shrugged at the unfamiliar object. Whatever it was, he knew Pope must have packed it for a reason.

The sound of voices growing louder from the connecting hallway caused him to slip back between several piles before disappearing once more out into the darkness.

SG: A

"…I didn't bring my weapon." Ronon felt undressed without the familiar weapon strapped to his thigh as he followed close behind McKay and Beckett, listening to the pair describe the game of basketball.

Rodney stopped and turned around to stare in disbelief. "What does that have to do with anything?"

"You said I needed to shoot the ball."

That brought a devilish smirk to the physician's face. "Aye, that you did say, Rodney." He received one of McKay's better glares for the remark.

"Oh, thank you. You are so not helping," he snapped at Carson. Turning to Ronon, Rodney put his hands together, shooting an invisible ball. " Not shoot as in using a gun. What is with you military types?" Before he could go off on a full tangent, he stopped, recognizing Ronon's signal for quiet that they used off world.

"Something's happened down here," the large man rumbled, warily making his way through strewn packing contents that littered the floor.

The two doctors followed close behind until the group came across the backboards.

Ronon propped the one on the floor back up against a crate. "Sheppard was here."

"Where is he now?" Carson asked.

Rodney glanced around the pair, taking in the equipment and pieces of hardware still resting on the floor. "Where are the poles?"

"What?" Ronon scowled.

Gesturing to the boards, the scientist then waved to the surrounding stacks. "He needs poles for these. Maybe he went to look for them and…"

They grew silent, looking around at the items Sheppard had been so eager to share with them earlier.

"Let's split up. McKay, you take Beckett."

Carson was mildly surprised when Rodney readily acquiesced. Following the scientist through the maze of crates, he realized how much McKay had changed since they'd first arrived. When they stopped near a burned out control panel on the wall, he grimaced, spying the screwdriver. "What do you think happened?"

"This is the bay door controls. Someone was either trying to get in… or out." He chewed his lower lip a moment before heading across the room in silent determination with Carson close on his heels. Coming to stand before the partially open, damaged doors, he watched Ronon join them as he held open his hand to display several spent casings.

Worried, Carson stated the obvious. "Oh, dear lord. We need to find him."

**TBC**


	4. Chapter 4

**Part 4**

Rodney hesitantly eyed the handful of spent casings before cautiously making his way to inspect the pock marked bay doors. "Judging by these," he said, his fingers tracing over the shoulder height indentations, "it looks as though someone was being shot at while trying to get out." His eyes traveled to the deep gouges on lower portion of the exit and he hunkered down to get a better view, before glancing back towards the screwdriver imbedded in the damaged control panel. "These were forced apart by something big."

Glancing out onto the dark pier, the trio backed away from the opening.

"I'm not sure if it's a good thing," Carson said quietly, "but I don't see any blood on the floor or the doors. Perhaps the colonel got away."

Ronon and McKay chose not to answer. Both of them knew from experience, how unlikely it would be for Sheppard to hide from a fight.

"We need weapons," Ronon grunted. "I'm going to see what I can find. Don't go anywhere."

"Don't go anywhere. Where does he think we are going to go?" Fumbling in his pockets, Rodney searched briefly before he plucked out his earpiece. "This is McKay, patch me through to the control room," he demanded.

A moment later, one of the techs returned his call. _"Doctor McKay?"_

With Carson at his side, the two men edged back towards the open door to peek out into the darkness. "Yes. I need a lifesign sweep of the East Pier."

"_Yes, sir," _the nameless tech replied_. "Sir, there is one individual located fifty meters out on the port side. "_

Hearing someone approaching their hiding spot, Rodney's gaze shifted nervously to discover that it was only Dex returning with a pair of aluminum baseball bats clutched tightly in his right hand. He activated his ear piece again. "I need all the light you can give me on the East Pier. Also, send a security detail and a med team to my position immediately."

"_Rodney?"_ Elizabeth's concerned voice came as no surprise. _"What's going on down there?"_

"I don't have time to explain," the scientist answered brusquely, the comm unit disappearing back inside a pocket.

"Take this," Ronon ordered, passing McKay one of the bats, "and stay behind me."

The empty pier lit up like a baseball stadium for a night game and left the three men blinking rapidly to adjust, before they cautiously made their way out with Ronon in the lead.

"Whoever is out here should be up ahead on the left," Rodney said loudly over the roar of the rumbling sea. Strong sprays of surf, pushed by the cool night wind, flew high against the edge of Atlantis, drenching all three of them as they continued their search.

"Sheppard!" Dex's voice boomed loudly over the pounding water.

Almost to the edge, they passed an idle forklift, no one commenting on the bent tines, but instead increasing their pace.

"Colonel Sheppard!" Beckett yelled, adding his anxious voice to their calls.

Once they made it to where Rodney figured the individual should be, they split up to scour the area, peering over the side into the angry water. Another spray slapped high, sending a cascade of water down where Rodney was standing and he would have tumbled in if Carson hadn't pulled him back first.

"Not so close," the physician called out, his own eyes huge from the adrenalin rush.

Rodney nodded, wiping his shirtsleeve across his face to remove some of the water that was running down into his eyes.

"McKay! Beckett!" Ronon's bark from up ahead had both men turn in his direction and find the large man pointing the bat he was carrying over the side of the pier. "I see someone!" he yelled, dropping his weapon before lowering himself over the side and then disappearing from view.

"What does that bloody fool think he's doing?" Carson didn't get an answer; instead Rodney grabbed him by the arm and tugged him to rapidly follow.

SG: A

Sheppard couldn't remember how long he'd been holding on to the grate. He only knew he should try to climb up but his fingers refused to cooperate and let go of his precarious hold. With his eyes tightly clenched shut and his chin tucked to his chest, he held his breath between wave after wave as they battered against him.

He could no longer feel most of his body due to the cold, his hearing muffled from water in his ears, and every breath an effort due to his earlier impact against the ship courtesy of the mother of all waves. When something touched his back, he never felt it. And it wasn't until a strong hand lifted his chin and turned his face, did he realize that a pair of very dark eyes were staring back at him.

"Ron'n," he tried to mumble. He was never so happy to see the runner as he was at that moment. The big guy's mouth was moving, but Sheppard couldn't make out what he was saying so he simply nodded, only to have his weary head flop back to his chest.

When a strong arm wrapped tightly under his arms and held him secure, he shuddered with relief.

SG: A

"McKay!"

Rodney heard Ronon's yell above the pounding water and dropped to his chest to peer over the side, while Carson pinned his legs to the deck so that he wouldn't get washed away with the next big wave. Spying the large man hanging on to Atlantis with his arms full of an unrecognizable soaked figure, he turned back to Carson. "He found someone!"

"Is it Sheppard?"

"I don't know." Rodney leaned farther, extending his hand as far as he could. "Give me a hand!"

Ronon looked back up at him and scowled before ducking forward to protect his charge from another swell. The water pounded up over Atlantis once more and Rodney felt himself slip momentarily before the pressure returned and held him steady. "Carson, I need for you to lower me a little more!" he yelled back over his shoulder.

"Rodney, you're getting too hard to hang on to!" Carson shouted back, stifling a curse as he got soaked again.

"Just a little farther!" Rodney felt himself eased down a few more inches and he was able to reach the man's fingers wrapped in the grate. Prying them loose, one at a time, he gritted his teeth, praying that he wasn't about to find himself going on an unwanted nighttime swim.

"It's Sheppard," Ronon called out after Rodney got the first hand free and glanced his way. Seeing the surprise in the scientist's face, he leaned back a small amount for the other to witness for himself. "He's alive!"

Rodney rapidly blinked back the stinging water from his eyes before he nodded. Doubling his efforts, he strained as far as he could to pry Sheppard's other hand free.

With the colonel's fingers untangled from the grate, Ronon shifted the weight in his arms and pushed himself and Sheppard both up while McKay reached down and snagged each of them by their collars.

"Help pull us up!" Rodney directed over his shoulder to Carson. He was startled to feel several more hands grab his legs and the waist of his pants, dragging him back across the deck as he maintained his grip on his teammates. Soon more hands appeared as the security members reached around him and latched onto the others, eventually tugging the trio back to safety. Before he could move, med techs swarmed over all of them.

Rodney pushed his heaving chest up off the deck as he tried to get a better look at what was happening. Someone had come from behind him and pulled him into a sitting position before draping a blanket over his shivering shoulders. His eyes never left the activity played out in front of him.

Carson and his team were carefully extricating Sheppard from Ronon's grasp, before wrapping the colonel's limp body in several blankets. Someone slipped an oxygen mask over the pale face as he was rapidly placed on a litter. When glassy dark eyes opened to peer up at the surrounding ensemble, the colonel lazily searched the faces, his eyes eventually coming to rest on Ronon and McKay sitting side by side, wrapped in blankets of their own.

He tried to force his mouth to obey, to let the others know what had happened, but he succeeded in only a slurring noise that made no sense.

"Colonel," Carson encouraged, tipping the wet head back so that he could get a better view of his patient, "you're all right. As soon as we get you warmed back up and make sure you aren't injured, you can brief the others."

Sheppard merely blinked, his breath beginning to hitch as flashes of what had happened slipped through his memory. His hands fumbled beneath the blanket in search of something before he swallowed and suddenly turned sickly pale, his eyes growing wide before closing tight.

"Roll him," Carson ordered, judging the reaction and knowing what was about to happen. McKay and Ronon both stepped in to help, comforting their friend as he emptied his stomach of foul seawater.

Minutes passed before Sheppard was finished and the dry heaves passed. Collapsing back into the litter, he allowed Carson to tuck the blankets back around him as his eyes started to slide shut only to jerk back open.

"Colonel, you need to rest." Carson began giving orders for him to be taken to the infirmary, but stopped when a shaking hand emerged from beneath the blankets, holding several small bundles. "What do you have there?" he asked, reaching down and plucking them free.

Sheppard blinked slowly, his eyes flickering back to his team before returning to Carson.

The physician held the packets out to Ronon and then settled his patient for the final time. "You rest, son. The others will take care of these." Watching the colonel lose the battle to stay awake, Carson glanced at those around him. "I need to get him inside. Rodney, Ronon, you both are to get dry clothing on and then come see me." Nodding to the packets, he glanced to Dex, "Make sure to bring those. I'll need to run a tox screen and find out just what the colonel stumbled into this evening."

He and his med techs were gone moments later, leaving the security detail with a stunned McKay and wary Dex.

**TBC**


	5. Chapter 5

**Part 5**

In the six months he'd been on Atlantis, JT had seen plenty of things that had scared the living daylights out of him, but they were nothing compared to the pacing, irritated, man across the room.

"You sure no one will be able to find us here?" Pope asked for a second time, still not entirely confident in the engineer's abilities.

"Yeah, like I told you earlier, this area is pretty much off limits and no one comes down here." JT fidgeted under the piercing glare aimed in his direction. He'd heard the stories from some of the other engineers about a mysterious broken vial that had caused people to hallucinate just before their brains had a meltdown and they died. But he'd been reassured that it had been taken care of so he didn't feel the need to share that little bit of information. "What do you want me to do now?"

Pope sniffed, rubbing his still cold hands together in hopes of warming them. Dressed once again in dry clothing, he had donned the attire of a scientist so that he could blend in. The new Atlantis crew member that he'd 'replaced' before leaving Earth might have been found by now, and maybe was still alive, but that really wasn't his problem. No one knew to look for him, and as long as Colonel Sheppard remained out of action, he didn't need to be concerned that he'd be found out. "You said they took him to the infirmary?"

"That's what I picked up over the comm. system. Why?"

A terrifying and deadly smile was the only answer to his question. "I'm going to go blend in and take a look around. Find my new quarters. Check a few things out before I get started." Making sure the bag of drugs was safely hidden, he scanned the room one final time, frowning at the unfamiliar objects that littered the counters, before heading out with JT at his side. "I think I'll pay a visit to your Dr. Beckett. Seems I had an accident while unloading some equipment. And of course, being new here, I figure it's better to get checked out." He rubbed the split lip he'd gained courtesy of the colonel's boot and then grinned with feigned innocence, "Can you believe I got injured on my first day here?"

SG: A

The security detail swept the pier and storage area inside and out, only to come up empty. There was no sign of any intruders, all of the equipment had been wiped clean of fingerprints, and a search of all opened crates found no drug paraphernalia.

"Sorry, sirs," Major Lorne said to Ronon and Rodney, who had been made to stand by impatiently and watch. "I'll take the casings down to engineering. Maybe they can find something, but I have to be honest, these look like standard issue."

"Good thing we didn't ask for your opinion then, isn't it," Rodney said irritably. Thrusting his hand out from beneath the blanket still draped over his shoulders, he snatched the evidence bag from Lorne. "I'll take care of these myself."

Lorne opened his mouth to protest but a deep growl brought him up short. He paused a moment before typing in something on his datapad and then handing it over to McKay. "Sir, I need your signature so I can authorize you to take possession of the casings." Once Rodney scribbled his name down with the stylus, Lorne held it out to Ronon. "Sir, your mark."

"What for?" Ronon challenged darkly.

The Major stood his ground and nodded towards the small bags still clutched in the runner's firm grip. "Drugs are forbidden on Atlantis and anyone found in possession of such items will be subject to court martial and or removal from the city. This states that I have explained such actions to you and that you agree to take the items directly to the infirmary."

When Dex didn't move to take the stylus, Rodney reached over in a huff and snatched it, signing Ronon's name to the line. "We're going to check on Sheppard. If you and your Keystone cops find anything of use down here, call me immediately." With a parting glare shot at Lorne, Rodney turned and made his way back towards the main part of the city, his blanket drooping like a wet superhero's cape, his soggy shoes leaving damp treadmarks along the way.

Ronon remained behind briefly, his eyes traveling from McKay's departing figure and then slowly back to Lorne.

"Specialist Dex?" Lorne asked, wondering what the big man wanted now.

"This stays quiet, understood?" Ronon's statement was ambiguous but the warning was obvious.

"Sir?"

"I've been here long enough to know how people talk." Opening his palm, he revealed the small bags of red capsules. "If I hear anything that suggests these have something to do with him," he nodded towards McKay stalking away, "I'll start with you. Clear?"

Lorne stepped back and swallowed. "Crystal, sir. We'll keep the investigation under wraps for as long as possible."

Ronon let his intimidating size hover over the smaller man before a feral smile crossed his face. Without another word he turned and followed after Rodney.

Letting out the breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding, Lorne sighed in relief that the encounter was over. "Thank god he's on Sheppard's team," he mumbled under his breath as he headed back to the pier.

SG: A

Once Carson was certain that Sheppard was relatively unharmed, he quickly took the time to shower and change into a set scrubs before tugging on his ever present labcoat. Now seated back at the bedside, he relished feeling warm again as he slowly sipped the mug of steaming tea one of the nurses had brought him moments before.

"Colonel," he said quietly, talking more to himself than to the bundled figure asleep before him, "it's a bloody miracle my hair isn't white between everything you and Rodney put me through." He shifted to rest his elbows on his thighs, the mug held firmly in both of his hands, as his mind replayed the events after the enzyme overdose. "Do you think he's as worried as we are?"

"Who? Who are you worried about?"

The snap in the voice was unmistakable and Carson grimaced, not realizing he'd voiced his concern audibly. Rodney was standing at his side, the scowl and tight gaze penetrating the physician like a knife. "I was just thinking out loud in regards to the Colonel," he lied.

The scientist didn't look fooled but his irritation diminished slightly. "How is he?"

"A case of exposure from being in the water, but the temperature wasn't cold enough to cause hypothermia." Carson stood and put his mug down on a nearby tray before walking over to a closet, staring inside briefly before retrieving what he was looking for. He returned to hand dry scrubs to both of the wet men, then continued. "He has a bit of bruising to the right side of his chest, and," pointing to the pillow propped leg, "he's done a number on his knee."

"But, nothing life threatening?"

"No, Rodney, he's gonna be fine in the morning. Sore, though. He'll probably need some help getting around for a few days. Usually, I'd give him a pair of crutches, but with his ribs banged up…" Carson shrugged.

Ronon stripped off his wet shirt, letting it drop to the floor in a pile, then tugging the scrub top over his head. His hair still dripping, he accepted a towel passed his way, and placed it over his shoulders. "Did he say anything after you got him here?"

"No, he's been asleep the entire time. I doubt he'll waken until tomorrow morn at the earliest." Glancing over to the still wet blanket ensconced scientist, Carson chuckled, "Do I need to light a fire under you? Get out of those wet clothes before you find yourself in a bed alongside the colonel."

McKay looked momentarily petrified at the thought before his usual façade of irritability slammed into place. "I was going to go back to my quarters for a shower first, if that is all right with you. All of the salt is making me itch. I have sensitive skin."

Carson's smile slipped and his eyes narrowed suspiciously as he examined Rodney fidgeting at the foot of Sheppard's bed. An inkling of an idea burned in the back of the physician's brain, and he realized the scientist had spent very little time in the infirmary ever since his overdose. Deciding to test his theory, he plucked the spare towel off the bed from behind him and tossed it at McKay. "You can use the shower here. Save yourself a trip."

The room grew quiet and Rodney thought for sure the others could hear his rapidly beating heart. Needing to get away from unpleasant memories, he dumped the articles back on the empty bed. "I need to speak with Radek about these," he said, holding out the bag of casings. When neither Carson nor Ronon tried to stop him, he ducked quickly out the doorway.

"Maybe I should…" began the doctor.

"Doc," Ronon stepped in front of Beckett, stopping him before he could follow. "Leave him be."

"Aye, you're probably right." He blew out a troubled sigh, his eyes still fixed on the closed door. "He's rarely here anymore. Kind of strange, actually."

"Maybe he's finally learned to be careful," Dex said with a shrug.

Carson's eyes grew haunted at the memory of Rodney's return from Ford's planet. "Or, maybe he's avoiding being here. It wasn't very pleasant, what he went through, and he had a bloody awful time after he thought all of you were gone."

"I know."

"Aye, lad, that you do." He turned to look back at Sheppard and found his patient still sleeping. "Did you bring the capsules?"

Ronon tugged them free from his pocket and passed them to Carson's extended hand.

"I never imagined this would be a problem we'd end up dealing with out here." Carrying the packets to his work station at the end of the room, the physician turned on several pieces of Ancient technology. "While I run these samples, you can use the shower. This won't take long and I should be finished by the time you get back."

With Dex gone and Sheppard snoring softly, Carson silently walked across the room to stare at the empty isolated bed, hidden behind a screen. Rodney wasn't the only one with bad memories of this room. The things the scientist had said, the way he begged for more enzyme, and then pleading to be killed. Shaking his head sadly, Carson turned around and set to work. One way or another, he would do everything in his power to never have to see anything like that again.

SG: A

The hallways were still crowded with old and new faces, and packing crates, but Rodney blindly tuned them all out as he made his way to his lab. He missed the stares aimed in his direction, the curious who wondered why he was draped in a blanket looking like a drowned rat. The only thing he could hear was Carson's voice… "Do you think he's as worried as we are?"

Worried? Hell, yes, he was worried! And angry. And scared. So damn scared that it made his chest literally hurt to breath. The itch of the enzyme hadn't left his system overnight. It had taken weeks. The temptation to find another way to scratch that itch burned inside him longer than he'd let on. He still had days when he could feel that niggling want.

It would be so easy to get drunk, to numb the itch.

No! He cursed himself for his weakness. The only reason he'd found himself in that position in the first place was to save the others. Now he was just being selfish.

Passing more faces, his feet guided him to his sanctuary. The hiss of the door, the smell of the equipment, the familiar murmur of voices he knew so well.

"Rodney?"

He blinked and discovered Radek staring back at him, his glasses resting low on his nose as he looked up.

"Why are you all wet?"

"Long story." Dropping the bag of casings on the table in front of Radek, Rodney let go of the blanket and pulled off his shirt, before retrieving his spare from the cupboard. The itch momentarily forgotten, he set to work, finding out who it was that shot at his friend.

SG: A

Pope slowed as he passed the science labs, his attention caught by a man examining a small yellow object.

**TBC**


	6. Chapter 6

**Part 6**

By the time Ronon finished and returned to the infirmary, Carson had already completed two separate tests and was now waiting to compare the results to something he'd started earlier. "Bloody fools," he heard the physician mumble angrily. Detouring past Sheppard's bed for a quick check, and seeing him still asleep, he came to stop beside Beckett. "What'd you find?"

Carson tapped the console monitor with his index finger, before letting it rest on a series of jagged lines. "This!"

Dex stared close but couldn't make sense of what he was supposed to be seeing. "What?"

Stripping off his latex gloves, Carson tossed them on the countertop and stood back, his arms folded over his chest as he contemplated what he was looking at. "The capsules from the colonel contain heroin. One of the finest grades I've ever seen." The screen on the monitor changed as the latest test results downloaded. He stepped closer and tapped several more keys while Dex watched curiously over his shoulder.

"These," the physician explained, pointing to the newest results, "are the blood and urine tests from Dr. Marks, the scientist from Rodney's lab. Notice the pattern." Carson pulled up the prior page and overlaid the two. They matched perfectly.

"The science guy was using Heroin."

"Aye, but not for very long. As you know, all members on Atlantis must have routine physicals every six months, and David's was three weeks ago. According to his records, he was clean at that time. And the Daedalus arrived this afternoon. If Sheppard came across the drugs in the unopened cargo this evening, there wasn't time for anyone to get to them earlier."

"So, it was already here and what came in today was a resupply?"

"Had to be. But why haven't I seen anything before now?"

Ronon didn't have an answer. Leaning against the counter, he picked up one of the small bags and squeezed the red capsule, causing it to break open and spill inside the plastic. "How's it work?"

"Some inject it, others inhale."

"Why?"

"Once the chemical hits the brain, it becomes Morphine."

The large man knew of that medication from his occasional offworld incidents and resulting trips to this very room. "The pain killer."

"Aye."

"Still doesn't explain why someone would take the stuff," Ronon grumbled.

"Atlantis's stress level is extremely high. A lot of pressure is placed upon individuals who aren't ready to accept such a burden and they might turn to alternative means for release."

Noise from the only occupied bed in the room made both men glance over, only to see Sheppard roll to his side.The movement caused one of his blankets to fall to the floor. While Carson readjusted the pillow under the colonel's knee and then draped the warm material back over the sleeping man, Ronon stood nearby and scratched at his bearded chin in thought.

"How long's he going sleep?"

Standing back, Carson surveyed his patient with a critical eye. "I wouldn't be surprised if he woke some time in the morning." When Ronon merely grunted, he frowned, "What are you thinking?"

Dark brown eyes pierced the physician, "Whoever did this to him, they're going to come back to finish what they started." Ronon paused and then added, "It's what I'd do."

A soft knock against the open doorway stopped any further comment. "Are we interrupting?" Elizabeth asked, with Teyla and Lorne accompanying her.

The two men stepped away from Sheppard's bedside to join the newcomers over by the work area.

Once Carson explained his latest findings, Ronon turned to stare down at Major Lorne. "What have you found out?"

The smaller soldier stood his ground, refusing to be intimidated a second time. "A couple of things, actually. First off, the security cameras, and the monitoring systems for the pier and cargo room were both turned off after the Daedalus launched. From the way it was done, it had to be by someone familiar with the operating programs because they didn't leave a trace. Secondly, we think the Colonel may have injured his assailant. We found a cordless drill that he must have been using to build his basketball hoops. It's busted and has dried blood on it. From the report that you," he nodded to Carson, "submitted on Sheppard's condition, he didn't receive any open wounds."

"Aye, he was fortunate to only get banged up but stay in one piece." Spying Teyla holding a large bag, Carson held out his hand, "Is that the drill?"

"Yes, we found it behind one of the sections of unopened crates."

Ronon watched her pass the bag over, meeting her gaze. "We?"

"Dr. Weir requested that I assist the Major while you and Rodney came to the infirmary." Her own gaze grew concerned, noticing the scientist missing. "Where is Dr. McKay? I thought he would be here."

"He took the shell casings down to his lab," Carson answered quickly. "I was just about to suggest to Ronon, before you got here, that perhaps he'd go check on him."

Dex took the hint and nodded. "You going to stay here?" he asked Teyla.

She smiled, but he knew she understood why he asked. Someone had gone after their team leader, and whoever it was, wasn't going to get a second chance.

"I had guards placed outside the infirmary," Elizabeth added, apparently also understanding the assumption, "as well as down with the cargo."

"Good." Ronon watched Teyla take up a chair beside Sheppard while Beckett went back to his tests. Glancing between Weir and Lorne, he sighed and rolled his eyes in annoyance before glaring at the Major. "You coming?"

Surprised, the young officer hesitated briefly before nodding. "You going to change first, or go running around looking like you escaped from here?"

That earned him a low growl as the runner plucked at the scrub top and then stalked out the door, leaving him alone with Dr. Weir.

"You do like to live dangerously, don't you Major?" she said, her brow raised in question.

Lorne opened his mouth to reply but then thought better of it. Knowing how fast Dex could walk, he took off out the door after the man.

SG: A

Dex's quarters were located on the extreme edge of the general housing area and Lorne found it interesting to see how few individuals passed by him this far out. Leaning against the wall, he mentally ticked off the seconds as he waited for the runner to emerge. Sure, Lorne knew he was the second highest ranking military officer on board Atlantis, but Sheppard's giant did have a way of using methods that were "off the record" that he, as a military officer didn't have the freedom to even consider. No wonder the colonel liked having the man around.

The door slid open a moment later to reveal Ronon dressed in BDU's and a black t-shirt, his sidearm strapped to his thigh.

"What's with the…?" Lorne waved his hand towards the unusual clothing choice.

"Thought I'd blend in better this way." When the major laughed out loud, he glared.

"Sorry, sir." Practically walking in double time, Lorne kept pace with Ronon as they made their way to the science labs. "Did you know Dr. Weir contacted Col. Caldwell after you found Col. Sheppard?"

"Why?"

"She asked him to send a video stream from the Daedalus security cameras while it was docked on Atlantis. Also, copies of all personnel files from the individuals that boarded the ship on Earth. Once they leave hyperspace, they can transmit."

Passing several unfamiliar faces in the hallway, Ronon studied each one before commenting. "When will that happen?"

Lorne glanced down at his watch, "Probably six or seven more hours before they can link up with the SGC to relay the information back about the crew."

The two men weaved around piles of empty crates littering the hallway before coming to stop outside of McKay's lab for the second time in less than twenty-four hours. New equipment sat idle on workstations as a variety of labcoat wearing scientists gathered around the far corner talking excitedly. When Dex and Lorne approached, a few looked up and stepped aside, making room for the newcomers to see what was causing all the excitement.

One of the recent additions to the science team was speaking while leaning over a seated McKay, pointing to the image on the viewscreen. "It doesn't match any of the weapons registered on Atlantis."

Radek turned to Rodney, trying to see around the large figure leaning into his personal space between them. Giving the new scientist one of his best irritated glares, he was pleased to suddenly find his view cleared. "They could have changed firing pin. That would create a new mark not listed in registry."

Rodney scrolled back through several screens then stopped, adjusting the image as he studied the enhanced picture. "There's nothing here that can help us," he declared in disgust, his hands rubbing his tired face before pushing up through his dry, salt tufted hair.

"What's going on?" Lorne asked. "These the casings from earlier?"

"Yes, but like I just finished saying," Rodney snapped, "there's nothing here that can help us identify the weapon or shooter. Other than standard issue 9mm ammunition, we've got nothing." He folded his arms across his chest and scowled back at the major, then spied Ronon, "How's Sheppard?"

"Why don't you go find out for yourself?"

A flash of uncertainty colored the scientist's face before his mask of indifference fell back in place. "Gee, I don't know. How about, I've been busy trying to figure out who was taking shots at him while he played with his toybox."

Ronon didn't look impressed. "You just said you didn't find anything."

Wanting to defuse the situation before it turned ugly, Radek cleared his throat and nodded to the scientist who had been leaning over the screen earlier. "Dr. Prope was explaining earlier about ballistic identifications and how the SGC keeps a history on all weapons. We were tying to locate the identification of the weapon that marked these casings."

Lorne eyed the scientist, surprised to see that he was almost the same size as Dex. "You're new here."

"Came in today on the Daedalus," Prope replied with a smile and then winced, reaching up to touch his puffy lip. "Had a little accident accessing my new quarters earlier."

That earned him an eye roll from Dex. How these people expected to survive the Wraith astounded him at times. "What's your specialty?"

For some reason the question appeared to annoy the new scientist and he pulled him self up to his full height, his gaze meeting Ronon's head on, "Weapons identification. And yours?"

A lazy smile spread slowly across Dex's face as he chose to ignore the challenge. Big title, little man… he wasn't impressed. Deliberately turning his back, he nodded to Rodney, "Teyla's with Sheppard."

That brought the scientist to his feet. "Why? What's wrong?"

"He's part of our team. You left. She stayed." Making his way back to the door, he didn't look behind to see McKay's frozen expression.

SG: A

"Top tile goes to the bottom. Third goes to the second. Second goes to top. Bottom goes to third." The snick of the door opening made JT jump. "Yes," he hissed, slipping into the room, letting the door close behind him. He pulled out the keyboard he'd tucked away in his work bag and snapped on a set of relays, then connected them to the service wall unit. Several taps to the keys and he brought up the schematics of the medical wing. A few more and he accessed the central power converter.

"Say goodnight, Colonel," he whispered, tapping in his final command.

**TBC**


	7. Chapter 7

**Part 7**

It took Rodney a fraction of a second to regain control of his situation. Surrounded by scientists, and watching the retreating backs of Lorne and Dex, he turned to Radek, "Find anything, let me know. I'll be…"

"…in the infirmary. Yes, yes, I know. Go, I take care of this."

With an absent wave of the smaller man's hand, he'd clearly been dismissed, and he hurried to catch up to the others. They in return, must have known he was about to join them, and widened the gap between them as they walked, making room for McKay.

"So you got nothing off the casings?" Ronon asked, his pace slowed to a more comfortable pace he knew scientist could handle.

"We did find a smudged print, but," Rodney shook his head in disgust, "criminalistics was not one of my chosen courses during my academic training. Zelenka and I discussed recalibrating one of the imaging systems the Ancients used to map their circuits to create better definition to the smudge, possibly highlighting any pattern or ridge detail. Again, though, neither of us is familiar with the process of identification."

They turned and took the stairs to the upper lever with Ronon in the lead. "I thought you were a genius," he jibed. "Can't believe you admit to not knowing everything. Wait 'til I tell Sheppard."

Rodney stopped on the midway landing, his mouth agape before the explosion of exasperated air burst from his chest, while the other two continued climbing upwards. "Yes, run to the colonel with your news." His hands on his hips, he momentarily looked back towards his lab before scrunching his face and following the pair. "Perhaps next time you need me to save your dreadlocks, I'll…" He paused when the lights at the top of the stairwell flickered briefly. "That shouldn't happen," he muttered, pushing his way past Lorne and Dex.

"What's going on?" the Major asked quietly, his gaze shifting up and down the empty corridor. The two posted guards from earlier were missing. He stopped moving when Ronon held up his hand, his own attention firmly affixed on the scientist.

"McKay?"

Rodney's head was tipped sideways as he listened to the familiar hum of the city, his eyes momentarily staring at the ceiling. When the corridor suddenly became cloaked in darkness, he smelled a waft of stale air as it was pulled past him.

"McKay?" Ronon repeated with more emphasis.

"Ventilation system just reversed." He reached out and made contact with the wall to get his bearings. "Smelled like the infirmary for a moment."

"Colonel Sheppard." Lorne's voice in the darkness stated what all three of them were thinking.

A firm grip wrapped around Rodney's arm and tugged him to stand behind who he figured to be was Ronon. Staying close without walking into his nearly invisible protector, he followed him quickly towards Carson's lair.

Lorne's voice echoed from nearby in the darkness as he called over his comm for Security but Rodney wasn't paying attention. His own earpiece in place, he shouted for Beckett.

SG: A

With his last batch of tests finished, and nothing more for him to do, Carson pulled an extra chair from his office and took up a spot next to Teyla. "Can I interest you in a cup of coffee or tea, lass? It's not fresh, but it's guaranteed to keep you awake in the middle of the night. And, I doubt Col. Sheppard will wake any time soon."

She smiled, but declined the offer. "I have become accustomed to waiting through the night for my team mates."

"Aye, that we both have." Leaning back against his seat, he stretched his legs out straight, clasped his hands across his chest, and let his eyes drift shut.

"You do not need to stay and keep me company," Teyla said quietly.

A hint of a teasing smile touched the corner of the physician's face, his eyes still closed. "You need me to leave you alone with him?" He didn't expect that sharp smack to his arm. Glancing in surprise to where she was sitting, he tried to look innocent. "What did I say to deserve that?"

"We are just friends." When he smiled at her, she noticed the teasing twinkle in his eyes and realized she'd played right into his hands. "You are worse than a nosey older brother."

He tucked his chin to his chest and let his eyes close once more, a soft chuckle shaking his shoulders. "Atlantis is a small place with a very large rumor mill. You wouldn't believe some of the stories I hear from my nurses."

"I am afraid to ask what those might be." She was amazed at how easy and comfortable it was to sit and speak with Carson. His sense of humor was so rarely seen due to all of the urgent matters that created a constant barrage, inundating him on a daily basis. She found herself slouching in her seat, imitating his posture of relaxation. "I did hear one about you, if you are interested."

One blue eye lazily opened, a spark of curiosity aimed her way. "There's one about me?"

Teyla raised a teasing brow, happy to be on the other side of the conversation. "Actually, there is more than one."

Pulling himself to sit up, Carson grinned devilishly and gave her his full attention. "Do tell."

SG: A

The two guards stationed outside of the infirmary could hear the murmur of voices and occasional quiet laughter. They both stood back against either side of the entranceway and relaxed slightly, their tension and concern over their commander eased greatly by the sounds from within.

When two consecutive bolts of energy surged from further down the corridor, neither man had a chance to escape before being enveloped and then dropping silently to the floor.

JT stared in awe at the unfamiliar weapon Pope had managed to smuggle to Atlantis and then gave to him to dispatch the guards. Creeping quietly down the hall, he broke the silence with his slight shuffle and drag, tugging one and then the other of the two unconscious men back into a darkened room.

A quick glance to his watch to see how much time he had left, he scratched an itch on his nose as he contemplated what was about to happen. Knowing it was going to be soon, and not wanting to be caught nearby, he casually wandered away towards the Mess Hall with his work bag dangling over his shoulder.

SG: A

Taking a careful sip of his steaming coffee, Carson set his cup back down on the bed table he and Teyla had set up between them. "Ronon? Great big fellow with long hair?"

Teyla nodded, breaking off another piece of her cookie and dunking it in her drink. "I have heard this from several of the women." She ate the softened portion before it fell back into the hot liquid. "There is one thing that they say that I do not understand, perhaps you could help."

"Certainly." He picked up a small shortbread cookie and popped it in his mouth.

"Why do they talk about the size of his feet?"

Carson accidentally inhaled a portion of his snack and it got stuck in the back of his throat, causing him to cough harshly and for his eyes water. Waving a hand towards the sink and barking out 'water' between coughs; he grabbed the cup she hurried to bring to him and swallowed several large gulps before the red color in his face began to fade. "Sorry," he choked out, wiping tears from his face.

Teyla took the empty cup from his hand and set it on the tray. "Are you certain you are all right?"

He nodded, clearing his throat, "Went down the wrong pipe."

Not entirely convinced, she pushed the small tray back and brought her chair closer. Glancing over to Sheppard before she sat, she discovered that he hadn't stirred during Beckett's incident. "Can I get you anything else?" she asked Carson once she sat back down.

He shook his head 'no', while still clearing his throat. He silently prayed she wouldn't bring the question back up and for a second was actually grateful when the lights flickered briefly.

She frowned and turned to him, "I have never seen that happen in the infirmary before."

Carson eyed the ceiling and waited but it didn't happen again. "Perhaps someone was working on the system. You know how Rodney and his gang feel about continually running tests."

They both settled back in their chairs, listening to the quiet and waiting to see if anything else was going to happen. When the room was suddenly enveloped in complete darkness, and the back-up lights did not engage, Carson scrambled across the room for his office. Banging into several objects along the way while cursing test running scientists, he successfully retrieved a pair of flashlights he kept in a drawer for just such emergencies. "Here you go, lass," he said, handing one to Teyla as he shone his down briefly on the sleeping colonel and then around the room.

Teyla popped in her earpiece, "This is Teyla, come in." She heard nothing and called a second time, still not receiving a response. "Carson?"

He tapped his comm several times and called out, also, to only receive silence. "I don't like this," he said as he watched Teyla walk over to the doorway and stop, when it didn't open. He was quickly at her side and using their combined strength, they tried to pry doors open to no avail.

Realizing that it wasn't about to budge, Teyla stood back and rubbed her arms while Carson tore off the control panel cover and pointed his flashlight at the darkened crystals. "Is it getting cooler in here?"

He stopped what he was doing and watched her a second before walking to the center of the room and listening. "Oh bloody hell!" he cursed as he ransacked a wall unit and pulled supplies and equipment free. He thrust several blankets at her and a small portable oxygen canister before filling his arms and going back to Sheppard's bedside.

"Carson, what is going on?" she asked as he spread several more layers over his patient and then cupped an oxygen mask over Sheppard's face.

Somewhere deep in his sub-consciousness, the colonel must have sensed an emergency and began to stir, trying to push the mask off his face.

"Leave it there," Carson ordered, his hand holding it firmly in place while Teyla appeared on the other side of the bed, taking the stirring hand in hers. He caught her gaze and nodded in approval. "The infirmary has gone into Decontamination Protocol," he explained, setting up his own mask over his face. "For some reason, Atlantis thinks there is a need to empty the room of possible airborne contaminants."

"What do we do?"

"We need to try and stay warm because it's going to get very cold in here. The atmosphere is being siphoned out, so keep your mask on. Hopefully we'll have enough until they can rescue us."

An abrupt banging began on the outside of the door and he hurried over, hearing the muffled calls from the other side. "We're in here!" he shouted, giving the door several good kicks.

SG: A

Rodney stood to the side listening to Ronon and Lorne attempt to pry the doors apart with their fingers as he removed the control panel and stared inside at the darkened crystals. "I need a flashlight and my laptop!" he yelled over his earpiece to Radek on the other end. "Don't forget the relays!" he snapped after the other scientist had replied.

"McKay, how long can they stay in there?" Ronon grunted, his muscles straining as he pulled without success.

Rodney mentally did the math and frowned. "I don't know how much oxygen Carson has in there, but if Atlantis has gone into lockdown and is decontaminating the room, then we have thirty minutes maximum before it become a vacuum in there."

**TBC**


	8. Chapter 8

**Part 8**

"Rodney? What was that you said?" Carson yelled as he tried to make out the muffled voice that continued to shout at him from the other side of the door. Able to understand only small bits and pieces, he pressed his hands against the sealed doors in frustration and sighed. Grateful in the knowledge that the one person who could get them all out of this mess was nearby and working on it, he tried to quell his rising sense of panic before turning to find Teyla watching him closely. "How are you doing, lass?"

She tugged the blanket draped over her shoulders tighter, but other than that she exuded her usual appearance of calm. "What can I do to help?" she asked, her warm breath misting her oxygen mask.

"There's little we can do. Let's just hope…"

A crash and a curse from behind the pair caused both to spin around, their flashlights pointing in the direction of Sheppard's bed, only to find it empty. Panning the general area, Carson spotted the missing colonel first, bent over sideways with one hand gripping an abandoned chair, the other clenching his sore knee.

"What do you think you are doing?" he barked, hurrying over to help the injured man turn around and sit on the offending seat.

"Who put the damn chair there?" Sheppard barked back. Realizing the room was a whole heck of a lot darker than usual, and Teyla stood close by holding a flashlight, he glanced between the two, his brow tightening across his forehead. "Somebody care to tell me what's going on?"

"Atlantis has initiated the Decontamination Protocol for the infirmary," Carson answered, finding Sheppard's discarded mask and placing it back over the colonel's face. "Keep that there," he ordered as he draped a blanket over the now shivering shoulders.

"The power has also been shut off and our communication devices are inoperative," Teyla added.

Sheppard sat back in the chair a minute to process, before attempting to stand, only to be stopped with the physician's hand pressing down on his good knee.

"Rodney's out there," Carson said with a nod towards the door, "with Ronon and Lorne. And from all the noise and voices, I imagine they've informed the rest of Atlantis to our predicament."

Not able to stop his building yawn, Sheppard blinked as he listened to the muffled noises from the other side of the door. "The air's getting thin. How long do we have?"

"Twenty minutes until the process is completed, but I'd prefer that we be out of here in no less than ten." Observing his patient and then Teyla, Carson draped another blanket over each of them and then checked their canisters, before making his way back over to the door. "Rodney!" he yelled, giving the door a hard kick. Screw calm, he wanted the figures on the other side to know they needed out now.

SG: A

Ronon didn't say a word; he just stood to the side with his arms folded tightly over his chest as he watched McKay furiously type on the keypad that a junior tech had delivered. The scientist was listening intently to Zelenka over his earpiece and then would jabber back commands as the two worked rapidly to solve the problem. When Beckett had called out moments ago, the runner watched as the color drained from the scientist's face, before the man appeared to mentally kick himself back into gear.

Now demanding that his fellow scientist get to the main control station, Rodney scanned the information sent to him. "There," he muttered to himself, his fingers typing rapidly, and then the lights in the corridor flickered briefly before remaining on. He didn't appear to notice, his attention focused on the voice in his ear. "I don't know!" he suddenly shouted. "Try the secondary bypass route to the main junction."

Whatever Zelenka had said in response made the scientist look madly up and down the corridor, his eyes searching for something. "Can you…?" the remainder of his question cut off as he shook his head. "No! That won't work. I'll access it from here."

Pushing his way through the small crowd of scientists, military, and medical personnel that had gathered, Rodney began to run with Dex right beside him, before stopping outside of a small alcove at the end of the corridor. Accessing the panel, he wasn't surprised when nothing happened. With one quick tug, he had the cover off and they could see the glowing tiles inside.

"Hold this," he said. Without even looking, he shoved his keyboard towards Ronon before pulling several tiles free and then replacing them in different order. The door slid open seconds later. He reached back to reclaim his equipment, only to find himself pushed to the side as the larger man cautiously entered the alcove first and checked it out. Once it passed muster, he was allowed to enter.

"I'm in," Rodney told Zelenka over the earpiece. He took the leads attached to his keyboard and snapped them into the service junction, bringing up the schematics of the infirmary. Apparently interrupted over the comm, he huffed, "Yes, yes, I'll break the protocol. You disengage the electromagnetic locking system." He tapped several more keys then stopped to listen again. "Use Elizabeth's code," he snapped. Before he was interrupted again, he ripped the piece from his ear and threw it on the floor.

"McKay," Ronon growled, knowing they were running out of time.

"Almost…" His eyes traced over the newest page displayed, locating the hidden back entrance into the program. "Yes!" he hissed, his fingers entering the password, before the display changed and a whole new set of configurations appeared. "I'm in."

Ronon stepped hastily back out into the hallway and signaled towards the waiting teams that McKay was almost ready. The members all shifted, eager to take action as he stepped back to Rodney's side.

"The locks?" he rumbled.

Rodney's focus stayed on the readout. "Zelenka will able to disengage them as soon as I get the system to reboot. Which will be right about… Now!" He stabbed one final key and then shoved the system to rest haphazardly on a shelf before darting back out into the hallway and racing towards the infirmary.

SG: A

Inside the darkened infirmary, Carson had gathered Teyla and Sheppard to sit near him beside the sealed entranceway. Each of them was on their second emergency canister of oxygen, the small tanks only lasting fifteen minutes. And the temperature inside the room had dropped considerably and cold filtered through the layers of blankets, causing them to shiver and slide closer to one another. He knew that all of them were suffering from headaches but nobody voiced the discomfort. Not trusting his own judgment at the moment, he had to wait for his staff to prescribe any sort of relief.

Sheppard, still fighting exhaustion and fatigue from earlier, slowly slid sideways, his head landing on Carson's shoulder as his body gave into the demands to sleep.

"Is he alright?" Teyla asked quietly, adjusting more of her blankets to lie over the colonel.

"Aye. The cold and limited oxygen are causing him to hibernate, so to speak. Hopefully, we will be out of here before we are in serious trouble."

She held her flashlight close, the small amount of warmth from the bulb soaking into her stiff fingers. "They have stopped banging on the doors and I no longer hear Dr. McKay."

Carson sniffed, shifting closer to Sheppard to check his pulse and respirations. Finding them slow, he scowled in frustration. "I've come to notice that when Rodney's quiet, he's working his hardest."

"I agree," she said, fighting back another wave of shivers. "Is it wise of us to be resting against the doors?"

He shone his light back behind his head and looked up at the dark ornate panels. "As soon as the others figure out how to shut down the systems, the doors should open. Personally, I don't care if I fall out on the floor of the hallway, as long as it's warm."

"Do you believe this is an attempt on Colonel Sheppard?"

Carson looked down at the man resting against his shoulder, the eternally mussed dark hair sticking out from beneath the blanket wrapped over his head. "It does appear to be more than a freak coincidence, the timing of all of this."

A harsh bang on the door startled both of them, followed by a rush of air sweeping through the room that brushed across their faces.

"About bloody time, Rodney," Carson whispered before the door snicked open behind him and he fell back against waiting hands on the other side.

SG: A

Someone removed the mask against his face and replaced it with another, while the familiar faces of several of his staff appeared around him. Voices peppered him with questions but he just stayed still in the arms holding him upright, watching with cautious eyes as Ronon carried Teyla back across the room, while Lorne and Dr. Schwartz lifted Sheppard and placed him back onto his bed from earlier.

"Need a hand up?"

The voice was unmistakable and Carson allowed himself a weary smile. "You certainly took you time turning the bloody thing off, Rodney." That garnered the familiar snort of disgust as hands lifted him from under his armpits and hefted him up to his feet. The physician would have fallen when his rubbery legs refused his weight, but the scientist caught him and draped an arm over his shoulder.

"Do you have any idea what my day has been like?" Rodney groaned in exaggeration. "I had to reroute the Protocols and practically destroyed the program, getting the damned thing to shut down. I still have a mess to clean up. Whoever did this, also changed the ventilation system, tricked the power relays to shutdown, and engaged the electromagnetic locking systems on the door with a new code. I'm looking at all night at least." While talking, he guided Carson carefully over to one of the empty beds and helped his friend hoist up onto the mattress. Certain that the man wasn't about to tip over if he let go, he grabbed one of the heated blankets from a nearby nurse and draped it over Beckett's shoulders. "You look like hell."

Carson allowed himself a small smile as he closed his eyes and sighed. Running his hand through his hair, he stopped to press his palm against his pounding forehead. "Feel like it, too." Next thing he knew, a pair of hands took him by the shoulders and tipped him sideways so that he was lying down. "I have work to do, Rodney."

"Let me think how many times I've said that to you while in the same position and you've totally ignored me. Oh, good, here comes Schwartz. Behave and he might just give you a lollipop."

"Do you think he has a lemon one?" Carson sparred tiredly; his day was catching up to him quickly.

"I save your ass, and you feel the need to mock me. Why do I even bother? Physicians come a dime a dozen. We lose you, 'poof' another appears. Me? My brain is invaluable. No one would be left without me."

"You are right," mumbled the doctor from beneath the pile of blankets Rodney kept placing over him. When he felt the weight of a hand rest on his arm, he cracked an eye open to catch the concern in his friend's face looking down at him. "Thank you for rescuing my sorry arse."

"You're welcome. Now shut up and rest." Rodney looked up and scowled at someone approaching in their direction. "Take your time, it's not like Dr. Beckett's your superior. Looking for a pay raise, Schwartz?"

"Dr. McKay," Schwartz sparred, emphasizing the word 'doctor'. "Don't you have something to go fix? Last time I checked, MD wasn't in the many letters after your name."

"That's right, many letters. What's after yours? MD and what? Oh, right, it doesn't really matter because you're just the hired help." With a parting loyal pat to Carson's arm, Rodney stepped out of the way. "I'll check on Sheppard and Teyla for you."

"Thank you," Carson answered quietly, before watching the scientist wander over to talk to Ronon on the other side of the room.

"I don't know how you do it." Schwartz wrapped a cuff around his CMO's arm.

"It just takes a bit of practice… and letting him _think_ he's in control."

Schwartz tore off the cuff and dropped it onto a side table. "Think you could keep some Tylenol down?"

Carson nodded without opening his eyes. Feeling a small cup placed in his hand, he popped the tablets in his mouth and then chased them down with water. The mask was slipped back over his face.

"You should have seen him work to get the system down. I thought for sure he would have gone through the doors with his bare hands if he had to." A pat to the shoulder and Schwartz was gone to check on the next bed.

Settled back against his pillow, swathed in warm blankets, Carson pried open his eyes for one last look before nodding off. Teyla and Sheppard were both sleeping, Ronon stood between the pair keeping watch. And Rodney, standing slightly apart from the others, his discomfort at being in the room obvious, finally pulled a single chair over to his bedside and sat down. His keyboard back in his lap, he glanced over to find the physician watching him through half lidded eyes.

"Go to sleep," he growled. "I've got work to do."

Carson blinked slowly; glad to see Rodney was staying, before he drifted to sleep.

**TBC**


	9. Chapter 9

**Part 9**

The handful of scientists in the main lab who remained to study the shell casings, scattered immediately after receiving Rodney's urgent call from outside of the infirmary. And now, finding himself alone in the room, with his earpiece in place so that he could monitor the other's progress in dismantling JT's bit of mayhem, Pope eyed the Ancient technology surrounding him. Somewhere in the jumble of half emptied crates and projects in the midst of study, were several items his partner had deemed necessary for him to acquire if they were to continue on schedule. Opening several cupboards, he located the first item exactly where it was supposed to be and picked it up. The small display came to life in his hands, and he paused a moment to study the screen before dropping it into one of the deep pockets of his labcoat.

When the call for more teams to assist was broadcast over Atlantis, he paused to check his watch. Twenty minutes left. "Hope you really do have those nine lives, colonel, that I've been told about. Because if you keep interfering, one of those remaining seven is going to cost you." He moved over to the station the two lead scientists had been working at. His gloved hand automatically reached for the spent casings, but he stopped himself and pulled back. He suddenly had a better idea.

Working quickly, he removed a small kit hidden inside another pocket and set about to create his next little diversion. The longer he was able to keep the crew headed in the wrong direction, the easier it would be for him to move around virtually unnoticed. Within minutes he was finished, before making sure that he left no evidence of his actions.

One final task and he'd head out to meet up with JT. Slipping a shiny mini disc from the hidden bottom on his kit, Pope placed it in the room's main console, watching with satisfaction as it disappeared into the system. A few taps to the keyboard and the familiar hum of the drives engaging signaled the copying of information. Moments later, the small tray slid smoothly open upon completion.

Easier than taking candy from a baby, or in his case, giving it to a baby, he mused. All signs of his intrusion erased, he vanished out into the corridor before the others returned.

SG: A

The first thing Sheppard knew after he woke up was that he was blissfully warm. The second, which was practically second nature to him by now, was that he was in the infirmary. A quick check around his bedside made him realize there wasn't any annoying beeping machine, and a hesitant glance under the blankets thankfully revealed a lack of any IV or other intrusive apparatus stuck in him anywhere. Other than a few too many blankets, a dull ache to the knee, and a slight twinge to his ribs, he was pleased to discover that he actually felt good.

Shifting carefully to rest up on his elbows, he garnered a better view of the dimly lit area around him. To his left, he recognized two of the security team members apparently sleeping off something. In the bed to his right, he recognized Teyla; curled on her side, facing away from him. In the next bed past hers was Beckett who was facing in his direction, but the doc's attention was focused on what looked to be a seated figure beside him. It was hard to tell because Dex was blocking his way.

Hating to climb out of his warm cocoon of blankets, he tossed them all aside but one, tugging it over his shoulder as he slipped from the bed and limped slowly over to see what was going on.

Dex and Beckett both glanced his way, concern clearly etched on their faces before they turned back to watch a sleeping McKay. Teyla, her head nodding towards her blanket clad leader, slid silently towards the top of her bed making room for Sheppard to sit on the bottom.

"What's going on?" he whispered, edging his hip carefully up onto the mattress.

"Rodney has been talking in his sleep," she replied quietly.

He frowned, his concerned gaze sliding back to the scientist, "What about?"

"The enzyme. Ford." Ronon shrugged, "Getting drunk." By the former runner's hulking stance, it was clear that he was feeling a little protective.

Sheppard chewed the inside of his cheek a minute before letting out a deep sigh as he watched Rodney twitch and mumble in his sleep. Even in sleep, the scientist looked tired and drawn. And knowing from experience how embarrassed McKay would be if he discovered the rest of them watching him, Sheppard devised a plan.

"Ronon, wake him up and get him out of here. Tell him you're hungry, and since the rest of us are sleeping, it'd be a good time for you to get a bite to eat." When Dex opened his mouth to argue, Sheppard stopped him with his hand in the air. "We'll follow soon enough." A glance towards the doorway, he nodded to the members of Lorne's team personally keeping watch, "Nothing's going to happen this time."

With the three 'patients' back under their respective blankets feigning sleep, Ronon reached out and rapped McKay on the shoulder. "Wake up."

Rodney instantly flinched and would have dropped the keyboard he was clutching to his chest, if Dex hadn't caught it first. "What? What's wrong?" he stuttered, the remaining vestiges of his unpleasant dream slipping back into darkness.

"Breakfast."

The scientist blinked slowly, before the ever-present annoyed scowl lit up behind his eyes. "Breakfast? I don't have time for breakfast. It's…it's…" he glanced down at his watch and then looked back at the runner in disbelief, "four in the morning. Who eats at four in the morning?"

Ronon folded his arms over his chest, his face unreadable and leaving no room for arguments. "Come on, I'm hungry."

A number of protests froze on the scientist's lips when he realized that the rest of his team was still asleep around him. "Maybe some coffee," he relented, reaching for the keyboard Dex held out like a carrot on a stick.

The larger man grinned mischievously and raised a brow, before tucking the apparatus under a large bicep while heading towards the door. "Breakfast."

SG: A

Thirty minutes later, stuffed with a small stack of waffles, two pieces of peameal bacon, scrambled eggs, and a cheese Danish, topped off with a steaming mug of fresh brewed Columbian coffee, Rodney sat back in his chair and patted his round stomach. "I really needed that."

Dex grinned over his third heaping plate, shoveling in a mouthful of sausage, "Knew you'd like it once you got here." He pointed his sticky fork across the table at the scientist, "You're losing weight."

Rodney plucked at his shirt, pulling the loose fabric away from his chest and shrugged. "Haven't been hungry lately."

The unexpectedly honest answer caught Ronon by surprise and he shot McKay an appraising glance. He thought the scientist looked pale and tired. "You feel all right?"

"Yes, Mother," Rodney snapped. Empty coffee cup in hand, he abruptly stood up, "I need a refill." Leaving Dex to his latest plate load, he made his way over to the large shiny urn and stared at his haggard reflection. It was like looking in a funhouse mirror, causing the bags under his eyes to grow wide and then narrow.

"You gonna get some coffee or just stand there making faces at yourself?"

Sheppard's out of the blue, dry comment startled him out of his reverie. Not turning around to answer, Rodney held down the lever, watching the dark liquid fill his cup. "I thought you were sleeping," he finally said. When he felt something swat him in the arm, he turned around to scowl, and was surprised to have to look down and find his friend dressed in scrubs and a robe, parked in a wheelchair, holding out an empty mug. "Did Beckett let you out… or did you escape?"

Sheppard plucked the full mug from McKay and handed him the empty. "Nah, he was busy talking with Schwartz about test results, so I kind of let myself out."

"You just hobbled on out of bed at…" he glanced at his watch and frowned, "five o'clock in the morning, got into a chair, and rolled on down here for some coffee? Why don't I believe you?"

"Believe what you want." Precariously placing the cup between his thighs, Sheppard slowly spun his chair around and eased his way over to Ronon's table, leaving an open mouthed, empty mug holding McKay back at the urn. Once he got his coffee safely on the table without spilling any on his lap, he reached over and snagged a piece of bacon from the Runner's plate. "Mornin'," he quipped, but the big guy just grunted and continued to eat. "You aren't a morning person are you?" Shifting in the chair he looked over his shoulder to see Rodney filling the second mug. "Hey, on your way back, grab me some breakfast. I'm starved."

"Oh, yes, master," McKay snarked back, banging the now full mug on a tray causing some to slosh over the sides. Without even looking, he grabbed several items before returning to his seat and shoving the food across the table. "Anything else?"

"Nope, this is good. Thanks." Peeling off the cellophane wrapper, Sheppard eyed his mystery danish before taking a hesitant bite. Raspberry. He glanced appreciatively towards Rodney and found the scientist watching him.

"What, you thought I didn't pay attention?"

"No, I just didn't know you cared." With a fake sniff, the dark haired team leader wiped a pretend tear from the corner of his eye.

"If you two are finished," Dex pushed his empty tray away and stared hard at Sheppard. "What happened on the pier?"

Suddenly down to all business, the atmosphere around the table changed as McKay also leaned forward, wanting to know the details.

"I went down to get the hoops built. No one was there when I arrived." For the next few minutes Sheppard described what had happened, finishing with Ronon and McKay's rescue. "I saw Lorne before coming down here, he told me about the empty casings. You weren't able to get anything?" he asked Rodney.

"Not so far. I need to get back to the lab, but first I wanted to show you what I found last night after you were sleeping off your adventure." Pulling his keyboard in front of him, he tapped several keys before spinning it around to show the others. "There's a..." he stopped when he looked up to see Teyla enter the mess hall and approach their table.

"Am I interrupting?" she asked, sitting in the empty chair beside Rodney.

"No, McKay was just about to tell us what he's found. Go on," Sheppard prodded the scientist.

"I went back through the system logs for infirmary programs and discovered an unauthorized access into the databanks. Whoever the intruder was, knew the classified codes and passwords to be able to disable the main control route to the server and reroute operations through the secondary bypass system located of the infirmary, in the junction of the hallway."

Pretty sure he understood what McKay was saying, Sheppard leaned forward and studied the display Rodney had brought up on his keyboard. "Who would have access to the codes used?"

Looking irritated beyond the norm, Rodney drummed his fingers on the tabletop. "There are only four people on Atlantis that I know of, and to the best of my knowledge, only two know how to use them."

"Who?" Sheppard asked.

"You, Elizabeth, Radek, and I all have clearance."

"Can you tell who accessed the system?"

Rodney stared hard at the keyboard before looking up to meet Sheppard's enquiring gaze, "My key code signature was used."

"Son of a b…" the last word hissed under the colonel's breath as he slammed his hand on the table top and then winced at the responding twinge of his sore chest muscles. "We all know you were down in the lab when the Decon Protocol began, so who could have gotten access to your code? Who would know how to change the system? The two from the cargo area didn't strike me as brainiacs. So now we need to find the drugs, this Pope guy and his sidekick JT, and whoever broke into the system."

"I am afraid I have more bad news," Teyla added. When the others turned to her she shook her head sadly, "Dr. Marks…"

"David," Rodney added, his attention focused entirely on her.

"Yes. Apparently while in the brig infirmary, he was exposed to more of the heroin and has suffered a relapse."

McKay's jaw dropped open, no sound coming out as he suddenly rubbed his face with both of his hands.

"Rodney, something you care to share with the rest of the class?"

"I didn't think of it before," his hands dropped to the table top in disgust, "but I let him use my keyboard last week." When the others looked at him in disbelief, he shifted back in his seat, his arms folded defensively across his chest. "What? I was in the middle of reconfiguring the sensor grids with Zelenka and he kept interrupting us with all of these inane questions about the ventilation systems, so I showed him how to access them on mine."

Sheppard rolled back from the table, while giving Ronon a nudge. "We need to talk to him."

"Colonel," Teyla spoke up to stop him. "Dr. Schwartz and Dr. Beckett were discussing treatment when I was leaving the infirmary."

"Great." He snapped his earpiece in place and paged the infirmary.

"_Yes, colonel?"_ Beckett promptly replied.

"Has Schwartz already gone to see Marks?"

"_Aye. Why do you ask?"_

"Ronon and I are on our way down to the brig to speak with him."

"_Maj. Edison just left the brig after attempting to speak to the man and said he was on his way to find you. If you are going to stay there to meet with him, I'd like to join in. I believe I've come across something important to add."_

Sheppard looked to the group still gathered around the table. "Okay, we'll meet here."

"_Good. I'll be there shortly. Beckett, out."_

"What'd he say?" Rodney asked.

"He and Edison are both on their way here to meet with us." Before he got to continue his comm paged in his ear.

"_Colonel?"_

"Good morning, Dr. Weir. Kind of early for a wake-up call."

"_Sorry, Colonel, but Major Lorne and I overheard that Major Edison is headed your way. We are also going to join you."_

"Something else I should know about?"

"_I'll tell you when we get there."_

"We'll be waiting. Sheppard, out." The expectant faces of his team stared back at him, each wanting to know what was happening. "Sounds like everyone's had a busy night. I think we're going to need more coffee."

**TBC**


	10. Chapter 10

**Part 10**

By the time everyone arrived and eventually got situated, they ended up pushing several tables together to accommodate the array of datapads, keyboards, breakfast trays, and carafes of coffee. Multiple voices, all trying to be heard at the same time became a headache just waiting to happen for Sheppard as he sat in the middle, sandwiched between an overprotective Dex, and the watchful eyes of Beckett.

A sharp smack to one of the tabletops brought an abrupt silence to the group.

"If you are all finished babbling like a bunch of schoolgirls about their pimples and prom dates, might we get down to the actual reason we're all here?"

Sheppard hid his appreciative smirk behind his hand at McKay's outburst as silence engulfed the group. Only the outspoken scientist could stop everyone cold with a biting remark such as that.

"Thank you, Rodney," he quipped, not quite sure if McKay was rubbing his eye with his middle finger on purpose, or if it was just natural reaction to being tired. From the dry look and eye roll, he was guessing the former.

"Colonel." Apparently Elizabeth didn't miss the gesture either, her brow quirked in his direction. "Maj. Lorne and I spent the night going over the data feed from the Daedalus. According to SGC records, every single individual that has joined us has been accounted for." She opened a folder and slid a stack of bio pages across the table to Sheppard. "These are all of them. Take a look, see if any match the men from the cargo hold."

He thumbed through the pages, his eyes rapidly skimming across each one. Drawing out several sheets, frown lines deepened across his brow as he studied them closer. Grainy 1x2 black and white photos adorned the corners of printed 8x11 dossiers. "You've got to be kidding me. This is what they sent you?" Shoving one back at her across the table, he stabbed the picture with his finger, "Hell, this guy could pass for Edison."

Maj. Lorne leaned across Dr. Weir for a closer look. "Excuse me, ma'am," he said when she cleared her throat. Sitting back in his seat, he caught the colonel's eye. "Actually, sir, that is Major Edison."

Sheppard snatched the page back, glancing at the name on the top, and then back to Elizabeth. "It is Edison. But the dossier belongs to a Dr. Ramone Ruiz."

"Let me see that." Rodney reached over and snagged the paper, his eyes skimming the page before he reached in front of Sheppard and grabbed several more. Finding the one he was looking for, he slapped a page down on the middle of the table. "That is Ruiz. I specifically asked for him to be transferred here to replace Abrams."

Elizabeth scowled, glancing at Lorne. "I know when we downloaded these, that the pictures were correct. How could this happen?"

All eyes at the table turned to look at McKay.

"Oh, for the love of… Ouch!" Rodney's blue eyes glared at Sheppard's green staring back at him from across the table as he reached down to rub his shin. "Get a driver's license for that damn chair."

"Sorry, my footrest slipped."

"Slipped, my …."

"Gentlemen," Elizabeth snapped, "pay attention. Once we get this situation solved, you can go back to playing on the schoolyard. Until then, I expect both of you to, to…" They stared at her expectantly, matching curious expressions daring her to slip up. She rubbed her hand across her brow, her sleep deprivation headache suddenly multiplying. Releasing a calming breath, she mentally made it to five before daring to meet Rodney's smug expression, "Can you tell me how this happened?"

"Of course I can. Give me a minute," he answered, his attention diverted back to his keyboard.

"While Rodney discovers what happened to the files, Major Edison, can you tell us what happened in the brig infirmary with Dr. Marks? I believe you said he somehow came in contact with heroin while incarcerated." Elizabeth's demeanor had returned to cool objectivity.

"Yes, ma'am. Private Hutchinson delivered Dr. Marks his evening meal from the Mess at 1800 hours. At such time, Dr. Marks was sleeping, and the tray was left at his bedside. At approximately 0400, the doctor woke up and asked for something to drink and was supplied with the container of juice that had been brought down with his dinner the prior evening. By 0410 he began acting strangely and I paged the infirmary. By the time Dr. Schwartz arrived, Dr. Marks was clearly out of it, ma'am."

Schwartz, who was seated perpendicular to Beckett at the end of the table stepped in. "We tested his dinner. There wasn't any foreign substances in his food or drink."

Sheppard leaned forward, his head tipped to Beckett. "Well then, how was he able to get dosed again?"

Carson plucked a plastic bag from his pocket and laid it on the table. Inside was a plain white paper napkin. "From what others have told me about Dr. Marks, he's unusually neat while dining and continually wipes his face with his napkin." Reaching back out to pick up the bag, he gave it a couple of hard shakes and then put it back down. Small amounts of fine white powder filtered inside the plastic for all to see. "After he drank his juice, he unfolded the napkin and wiped his nose and mouth, inhaling the heroin."

"You're telling us he snorted his napkin?"

"Aye. And after testing the grade of heroin, we found it to be the same as before." Tapping the bag, Carson's worried gaze glanced around the gathered ensemble, "I have to tell you," pointing between himself and Schwartz, "we have never encountered anything this pure in content. I'd have to say that it was manufactured in a top notch laboratory, not some back room."

Elizabeth prodded the bag with the tip of her pen. "We are still stuck at the reason 'why'? Why is Dr. Marks the only one to have shown any signs of coming in contact with this? Why did it somehow get placed on his napkin?" She glanced over to Rodney, noticing he was no longer paying any attention to their conversation, instead jabbing at his keys in irritation. "Rodney?"

He chose to ignore her as he studied the readouts being displayed. Only when Sheppard nudged his shin again with the footrests of the chair did he look up. "What?"

"What'd you find?"

The scientist looked back down, his agile fingers tapping in another command before he frowned and reentered the command again Whatever it was that the small screen displayed, clearly it agitated him further. "I need to get to my lab," he said distractedly, pushing his chair back and grabbing the keypad.

"Rodney?" Elizabeth was now standing, sensing something very wrong.

He stopped at he door and glanced back to find the others watching him closely. "I need to..." he waved his pointer finger back and forth several times before emitting a questioning grunt of "Hmm", as he walked out the door.

"Colonel."

Sheppard was already ahead of Weir. "Come on," he said to Ronon and Teyla. "Let's get down to the lab."

With Dex steering the chair from behind and Teyla waiting at the door, they stopped momentarily when Elizabeth and Carson caught up to them in the hallway.

"Leave your comm. open and report to me as soon as you know what he's found," Weir ordered. "I want to know the minute anything else might happen. Understood?"

The trio nodded, agreeing to stay in contact.

"Good. I have two teams leaving for offworld this morning. If you need me, I'll be in the control room."

Thinking they were free to leave, they found themselves stopped when Carson blocked their path. "You need to stay off your leg, Colonel, and rest your knee and ribs. But knowing how well you listen to me," he handed over a paper packet containing several white tablets, "here is some Tylenol for when they start to act up on you. Avoid running if you can. I'd really hate to have to repair any ligament damage."

Figuring that was his release from the wheelchair, Sheppard was surprised to feel Teyla's hand pressing down on his shoulder. "We will make sure he obeys your orders, Dr. Beckett."

"Thank you, lass." Beckett's smile faded as he glanced back at Ronon and then the colonel. One look at the pair and he knew there wasn't a snowball's chance in hell that Teyla was going to be able to hold up her promise. With a heavy disgusted sigh and a shrug, he headed back inside the mess hall to find Schwartz. When the others needed him, they knew where to find him.

"Your quarters?" Ronon asked as soon as the doors closed behind the physician.

"Yeah." Plucking at the scrub top, Sheppard wanted nothing more than to get into his own clothes and then get underway. "It'll give McKay a chance to get past the non-verbal grunt stage. Once I change, we go find him."

SG: A

The gateroom was busy with the usual flurry of activity as a science team and military contingent gathered together their gear before going off world. M56-352 had recently been culled, yet the latest MALP readings still indicated a low energy reading. Perhaps the wraith had missed something and before they came back, the team might get the chance to find whatever it was first.

Standing on the overhead balcony, Elizabeth watched the new and familiar faces blend together down below. When the gate 'whooshed' open, she waved to the few that turned around to look back at her before they entered the vortex. Soon, with the bustle now on a planet far away, the gate closed, leaving an empty floor and silence.

She remained rooted in her spot, her thoughts going over the earlier feed from the Daedalus and an annoying conversation with Caldwell, the session in the mess hall, and the briefing before the latest team departed for off world. Combined with the incidents from the prior evening, she was exhausted.

Certain that Sheppard would page her the minute he found out anything, she walked over to the gate tech's position. "I'll be in my quarters if you need me."

He nodded, glancing at her briefly before focusing back on his task at hand. "Yes, ma'am."

SG: A

Pope stood on the other side of the vortex, his eyes tracing over the damage left by the Wraith. The place looked like a combat zone and it was clear that the planet's natives didn't go down without a fight. He sighted what looked like the remnants of a crashed dart near the rear of the gate ring and he started to walk towards it until one of the grunts stopped him.

"Sorry, sir, but until the vessel has been examined by military personnel, you need to stay clear."

The large scientist looked down on the smaller soldier. "My specialty is weapons. I think I can handle myself, son," he said with a condescending wink.

Not about to be pushed aside, the young man stood his ground. "I'm sorry, sir, but I have my orders."

"I'm sure you do," Pope murmured, his tone ice cold as he turned away and shifted his pack on his shoulders. His eyes once more scanning his surroundings, he decided to go and search another area. If the people had been able to bring one ship down, they might have possibly taken out another. And if he was really lucky, he might just locate what he'd come all this way to find on his very first trip.

The remainder of the group of scientists waved to him, beckoning him to join them as they excitedly gathered around some object half buried in a pile of rubble. Shoving down his immediate sense of annoyance at having to put up with their endless chatter and useless conversations in regards to what they had found, he allowed himself a moment to ponder on how JT was coming along back on Atlantis. A sly smile touched the corner of his puffy lip, causing a minute pinch of discomfort.

The smile slipped as he traced the injury with the tip of his finger. For some reason Sheppard irked him. He'd heard how the man had become in charge of the military contingent on Atlantis, how he'd shot and killed his commander while supposedly saving him from a Wraith.

He'd come across types like him before and knocked them down a peg or two. Since the lockdown had failed, he wouldn't have an easy chance at the man, but still, perhaps before he was done on Atlantis he'd manage to take care of Sheppard too.

**TBC**


	11. Chapter 11

**Part 11**

Radek looked up from the screen he'd been staring at for the past fifteen minutes to see Rodney enter the lab. Clearly lost in thought, the senior scientist had a deep frown on his face as he poked his keyboard several times while shaking his head in irritation. When he actually tossed the piece of equipment aside onto his personal work table, Radek knew it was time for a distraction.

With a finger poised on the middle of his glasses, he spun around on his stool and got McKay's attention. "Good, you are back. I finished recalibration and was able to integrate security software to create fingerprint database of everyone from Atlantis and Daedalus."

Pulling over an empty stool, Rodney sat and stared at the screen Zelenka had on display. His eyes skimmed across several faces belonging to members of their science staff before turning his attention back to Radek. "What's this? I've been trying to break a fragmented loop and you're busy setting up an Atlantis yearbook?"

"Yes, Rodney," Radek snapped tiredly while his finger jabbed McKay's photo from the personnel files, "and you have been named biggest buffoon." The two men locked irritated stares before the smaller scientist shook his head while mumbling a curse his grandfather had taught him, and then turned back to his computer in disgust.

McKay in turn, absently rubbed the stiff muscles on the back of his neck as he watched the screens change to one of the shell casings. "Were you able to differentiate who the smudged print belonged to?"

"No, there was problem when we returned to lab after helping you release infirmary."

That got Rodney's attention and he sat a little straighter. "What kind of problem?"

"While we were gone, someone entered lab and changed fingerprints on casings."

"Fingerprints? As in plural? Did you find more after I left?"

Radek shook his head 'no'. "There was only one, but when we returned, it had been removed and other prints taken its place."

Another piece to the dizzying puzzle was added to the growing pile. "The pictures you had on display."

"Yes. But that is not only thing."

Rodney took a deep breath and then let it out slowly. "Tell me."

"I accessed lab memory for period while we were gone. Data was downloaded."

"This just keeps getting better and better. Any idea on what they took or do I have to drag this out of you one sentence at a time?"

"As near as I can figure, it was all information we had about Wraith technology."

Rodney's head hit the tabletop with a thump, before rocking back and forth. "None of this is making any sense."

Radek watched his colleague before reaching back to the other table and snagging Rodney's keyboard. "You said you found fragmented loop. Where?"

Without looking up, Rodney tapped Radek's monitor screen. "Print one of dossiers out."

"Which one?"

"Doesn't matter, do mine."

A few moments later the hum of the printer sounded and Radek grabbed the paper as it emerged. The bio was clearly Rodney's but the photo belonged to Dr. Weir. "How?" he squeaked, before printing out his own page, only to see Dr. Biro's picture appear.

With a sigh, McKay pushed himself up on his elbows, his face inches from the screen. "It's like a deck of cards being shuffled. When information is brought up, the program goes through a series of algorithms to locate and process the data. But someone has apparently taken it upon themselves to enter a new algorithm."

"A virus. The fragmented loop you spoke of?"

Rodney nodded. The itch was back and he felt distracted as he tried to pay attention to Radek. Perhaps he should go see Beckett, he pondered absently. The physician had offered to help him when he had a rough day before. But so far he'd been able to take care of everything on his own. Swallowing back the persistent pull on his subconscious, he was surprised to feel someone's hands on his arms giving him a slight shake.

"McKay? Rodney, you all right?"

He blinked and pulled back, suddenly very aware of Sheppard's concerned face peering at him, way too close for his own comfort. Where had he come from? Hearing Teyla call for Beckett behind him, he held up his hand to stop her. "There's no need for him to come down here. I'm just tired and was resting my eyes."

The colonel didn't look convinced and the harrumph from Radek didn't help. "Too late," Ronon added from nearby. "He's already on his way."

"What? I've had a total of maybe four hours of sleep in the past forty-eight hours, and those were in a damn uncomfortable chair at your bedside. Now you're ready to cart me off to Dr. Do-little? I'm fine," he growled.

Sheppard looked skeptical but stepped back. "Call Beckett," he said to Teyla. "Tell him 'false alarm'." He pulled the stool closer that Zelenka had abandoned moments before, resting his hip on the edge while taking some of the weight off his sore knee. "Since you're fine, maybe you'd like to fill me in on why you left meeting."

Rodney snapped his fingers at Radek and pointed impatiently to his keyboard. Then for the next few minutes, the two scientists went over all that they had ascertained.

"So, what you are saying is that you can fix this?"

"Yes, yes," Rodney huffed while trying unsuccessfully to stifle a yawn. "I spent a good portion of last night repairing all of the systems that were hacked into to create your little adventure in the infirmary. This appears to be along the same lines. Whoever is doing this… they know which systems to get into to create necessary time consuming repairs without damaging Atlantis."

"Without damaging Atlantis? We could have died in there last night if you hadn't been able to stop the Protocol."

"But you didn't. Think about it; you were in the infirmary with backup oxygen, blankets, and a physician available. The subroutine to the Protocol program had been altered but the backdoor into the program was left intact. If I was going to rewrite a program to stop someone, I'd get rid of the failsafe. They didn't. They knew I'd find it before it was too late."

Sheppard sat further back on the stool and leaned against the tabletop for support. His gaze focusing on the keyboard and then the monitor, he shook his head in disgust when he realized just what Rodney was telling him. "They are creating diversions."

Both scientists nodded.

"Any idea what they might be after?"

Radek stepped over to his system and brought up the latest system diagnostic. "Wraith technology."

SG: A

JT struggled with the heavy support brackets used to frame the small enclosure he was building inside the Ancient abandoned science area. With Pope surprisingly offworld on only his second day on Atlantis, the bulk of the work was left to the smaller man, along with maintaining his own scheduled duties. When his watch beeped, notifying him of the time, he gratefully let the piece drop to the floor with a resounding thud.

He'd have to get back to it later. Right now he needed to hustle to the engineering department before someone started to look for him. Wiping the dirt and sweat off his face and arms, he slipped on a clean shirt and labcoat before hurrying out into the darkened hallway.

Mentally running through his list for the day, he fingered the plastic packet hidden deep within his pants pocket. During his dinner break, he needed to make a certain delivery, and then stop by the main control level above the gateroom.

His feet carried him quickly back into the main population of Atlantis and he smiled and nodded at several co-workers that called out to him as they passed. When a firm hand dropped on his shoulder, he glanced over, hiding his momentary surprise, and found Maj. Lorne walking beside him.

"Hey Dr. Taylor," the officer greeted with a warm smile.

"Major," JT returned with a smile of his own. "What brings you down to our humble level today?"

"Need to talk to your boss about the hangar doors," he said as they weaved around a pair of oncoming scientists.

"I thought a team worked on those during the night?"

That made the major chuckle. "Oh, they did. But I think the Colonel's use of the screwdriver is still causing problems."

JT scrubbed his hands over his face, shaking his head in disbelief. "Have you found out who was down there with him last night, causing me all this extra work?"

Lorne frowned. "Not yet. But I heard from Sheppard not too long ago that Dr. McKay was onto something and the two of them were going to check it out. So who knows?"

"Really? Well that's good to hear." Plastering on his best fake smile, he stood to the side as the doors to the engineering lab slid open. "After you," he said before following the officer.

The door slid shut behind them.

**TBC**


	12. Chapter 12

(A/N: Remember, Pope's real name is Prope. It's not a typo. Although later, after this is finished, I'll probably change Prope to something else. I'm confusing myself. Oh, and as always, Thank You Gaffer for the beta.)

**Part 12**

Pope spent the majority of his afternoon going from one burned out building to the next, searching through the rubble and ash for any possible sign of his mission goal. Stepping over several withered husks of human remains, he hunkered down to take a closer look at one individual who still clutched some sort of device in a useless death grip. Careful not to alert the others working close by, he pried the item free and tucked it away for future examination. When the sporadic sound of gunfire suddenly erupted from somewhere outside, followed by excited yelling and instant chatter over the radio waves, he pulled himself back to his feet and made his way over to the nearest window, acutely aware of the individuals in the room who followed.

Two stories below on the debris strewn street, soldiers were taking defensive positions, their attention intently focused on something advancing that Pope couldn't make out. When the unmistakable whine of a low flying dart screamed directly overhead, he actually dropped to his knees and tucked himself against the wall, suddenly very aware of what was happening, while the others around him murmured excitedly in terrified whispers.

More rattling weaponsfire of P-90s followed by the explosive pound of RPGs forced him to his feet. Several scientists waved him to get down; their hoarse whispers demanding him to take cover went ignored. Weaving his way through the building and down the partially collapsed back stairway, he exited on the opposite side of the firefight and then worked his way back around so that he could go unseen by the soldiers.

The dart whined back overhead a second time, its beam raking the ground in search of victims and coming up empty once more.

Pope's eyes narrowed as he studied the ships movement, judged the pilot of the craft by its maneuvers. His fixed gaze never leaving the alien vessel, he reached into his vest and plucked one of the items he'd liberated from the lab earlier, and attached it to his chest. The small static charge engulfed him as the soft green glow emanated from the shield.

The dart turned off in the distance and was coming back for another pass when Pope allowed himself a grim chuckle, 'Persistent bastard'. While the others focused their attention on the advancing vessel he waited for it to go past his position. With another one of his 'toys' rapidly assembled and resting against his shoulder, he waited until the very last moment before stepping out and firing.

No audible sound was emitted, no flash of explosives filled the sky, but the dart suddenly dropped like a stone to careen across several rooftops before its momentum carried it over the side to crash into a decimated alley below.

Pope glanced back over his shoulder to the rushing soldiers still a block behind him. Knowing he had little time, he bolted forward towards the smoking vessel and reached it just as the dark, bloodied demon from within emerged. The two stared at each other before the Wraith hissed and lunged for Pope, its hand reaching for the scientist's chest, before it drew back.

A momentary flash of confusion clouded its face before it sneered, seeing the handgun in its prey's right hand, "That cannot stop us."

"No," Pope added with a sneer of his own, "but this might." He pressed the handle of the Zat he was holding in his left hand, feeling the weapon activate before he fired a single blast at the wraith's chest. When the alien glanced towards to where he was hit, but showed no sign of collapsing, Pope fired again using both weapons. This time the Wraith folded like a deck of cards.

The sound of rapidly advancing footsteps signaled the weapons specialist and he tucked the Zat back under his vest before the others reached his side.

"What the hell do you think you are doing?" the major in charge yelled as he shoved Pope back away from the wreckage and the body towards safety. Several more military members arrived, their weapons aimed at the wraith, just waiting for a reason to fire.

"Apparently doing what you can't!" Pope shot back without restraint. "I wasn't about to stand back and watch my colleagues end up on the buffet because you and your team of jackasses can't even shoot down one damn dart."

Not used to being back talked to by one of McKay's lackies in such a manner, the major bristled. "You listen here, _Doctor_. While you are offworld, you are under my command. I don't care if you have a signed note from your mommy, Dr. Weir, or McKay himself, but you will follow my orders. "

Pope stood rigid at his full height, towering over the officer, contempt radiating off of him like heat from a raging fire. "I'm here to do a job, Major. Not to be coddled by a bunch of misfit military wannabe's that could only dream of understanding what I'm working on."

"And just what is that, Dr. Prope? Maybe you'd care to spell it out slowly to the rest of us just how, or rather what you used to bring that dart down. Because, I'm pretty damn sure that what I saw back there wasn't Earth issue regulation arms."

"Sir?" one of the junior officers stepped cautiously up to the pair.

"What!" both men snapped.

The lieutenant's gaze shifted between the two, before he focused on his commander. "Sir, the power is completely drained from the dart; all its systems have been wiped clean."

Major Culbert paused, his eyes narrowing as he shifted his piercing gaze back to Pope. "What did you do?"

"I neutralized it's systems with a type of EM pulse that we were testing back on Earth. Like the young man just said, it wipes all power signatures clean."

The major scrubbed his hand over his jaw, his chest heaving in agitation. "So you're saying that whatever signatures it had stored inside its database are now gone?" He didn't wait for an answer. "Lieutenant, how many personnel did we lose because of this ship?"

The younger man swallowed and licked his lips. "Four, sir, that we know of."

"Because of your gizmo, four essential personnel of Atlantis were neutralized! We don't have resources or people available for you to experiment on, Doctor! Do I make myself clear?"

The situation was escalating to a dangerous boiling point between the two men and Pope wasn't one to ever back away from a fight. He took a step forward, his voice unsympathetic, "This is war, Major, and in every war there will be collateral damage. It's the price every individual decided to pay when they accepted their post to Pegasus."

"They might have decided that the risk was acceptable, but that didn't give you the right to play God with their lives! I want you back on Atlantis, now!"

"I don't give a damn what you want. I'm here to do a job, and I'm not leaving until I'm finished."

Culbert's hand dropped to rest warningly on the sidearm attached to his thigh. Before he got the chance to use it, one of the men guarding the ship called over to his superior.

"Major, sir, the wraith appears to be dead. What do you want us to do?"

His jaw tight with simmering anger, he broke the staredown first to glance away and acknowledge the question. "Call the others. Let them know it's time to pack up, we're heading home."

The last thing Pope wanted to do was leave the downed ship. "I need ten minutes with the wreckage to retrieve some equipment," he said with a forced sigh of resignation. Playing games was something he was very good at, and if letting the Major think he'd won, got him what he needed, then for now, so be it.

The other man studied him closely, weighing his options before making his decision. "If I don't see you in fifteen, back at the gate with all of your gear ready to go, my men will bring you back using whatever force they deem necessary. Is that clear enough for you to understand, Dr. Prope?"

SG: A

The Atlantis physician ignored the canceled call to the infirmary. Small kit in hand, he took his time on his way down to the main science lab. Perhaps, by the time he got there, his entrance would create less suspicion if he claimed to be checking on Sheppard, instead of seeing for himself how Rodney was really doing. Slipping inside the already opened doors, he found the team, plus Radek, seated around a table deep in discussion.

"Wraith technology?" Sheppard asked, shifting his leg with a grimace to a more comfortable position. "Anything specific?"

Radek tapped out a command, bringing up a page that displayed the alien's weapon systems. "It appears to be all information regarding stunner capabilities. But that is not all that they copied." Another series of commands, another page displayed causing the physician to step forward and stare closer at the screen.

"That is my analysis of the Wraith hand that was brought to me for study," Beckett said irritably. "Someone tapped into my medical files?"

"Tap is putting it mildly," Rodney huffed. "From what I've been able to trace, they copied all of your Retrovirus data, Sheppard's records, information in regards to the enzyme, Ronon's, Teyla's and my overdose histories, and any work you've done since then."

Carson gaped in indignation at the pages displayed, and then to the surrounding group. "And you didn't feel the need to inform me of what you'd found? Why didn't you come and tell me as soon as you knew?"

"Calm down, doc. We just found out ourselves," Sheppard replied before Rodney went into meltdown mode. "McKay just figured it out before you got here."

Letting his eyes examine the man in question, Carson studied the weary scientist seated on the stool who was refusing to meet his gaze. Rodney's stiff shoulders were nothing compared to the exhausted expression that eventually turned to irritably stare back. "Sorry, my mouth got ahead of my brain."

"Not the first time," Rodney snarked back.

Sheppard decided to break it up before it got ugly. "Gentlemen, I realize the two of you insulting each other makes for good entertainment for the rest of us, but we don't have the time right now. Rodney, Radek, is there anything else here that can help us?" he asked, his hand tapping the monitor behind him.

Radek pulled off his glasses and rubbed the arch of his nose. "No, we are one step behind."

"Then maybe we need to go back to the beginning." Dropping his foot to the floor, Sheppard slowly stood up and tested his knee. It felt stiff, a little sore, but functional. Giving Beckett a nod, he limped past and stopped at the door. "Let's go back down to the cargo hold. See if we can dig anything else up that might give us a better idea of what or who we are up against."

Ronon and Teyla followed him across the room. Seeing that the others appeared to be staying, he frowned. "I could use your help, McKay."

"As much fun as playing detective with you might be, I have serious work to get done. Security needs to be reestablished in the main systems, I have to make sure no other programs have been hacked into by your little band of admirers, and…" he paused, ticking items off on his fingers and not able to come up with a third reason.

"Dr. Z, think you can cover those?" Sheppard knew the answer before he asked it and had to admire the second scientist as he reached over and gave Rodney a push off the stool.

"Go. I need to be able to think without listening to you bang on keys and curse like ugly rejected secretary in typing pool."

"Fine," Rodney huffed, standing up and tugging his shirt straight. "I do all the work, and you take all the glory. Fine." Stalking past Sheppard, with Carson close on his heels, he grumbled about not needing a talking dog or the Mystery Machine, since he was already surrounded by the fictional characters of Dr. Who, Conan, Xena, and Captain Kirk.

SG: A

They found the cargo area with the bay doors partially open, letting the afternoon sunlight stream in across the stacks of crates still piled high, to cast long shadows across the back of the floor. Work teams sorted stacks, having other crews transfer them onto waiting jitneys to be delivered across Atlantis, while members of engineering hammered and repaired the damaged doors and controls.

Sparks showered in a blaze of yellow, before a string of curses filled the air from the man attempting to patch Sheppard's little screwdriver mayhem. "Cut the power!" he yelled, standing back and giving his zapped arm a good shake. The spray immediately died, leaving a dark singe mark along the wall. More muttering could be heard and a well placed kick hit the wall before the engineer went back to work.

"I see you're making new friends," Rodney quipped with a smug smile aimed at Sheppard, before he took another bite of the sandwich he'd snagged on the way down.

"I've been taking lessons from you, McKay." Watching the engineer get back to work on the unit, Sheppard nodded, "You know, there are so many new faces on Atlantis, it's hard to keep track of who is who anymore."

"Dr. Taylor," Rodney mumbled over a mouthful of bread. With a quick swallow, he waved his hand dismissively, "He was recruited from Area 51."

Teyla looked to Ronon and the large man shrugged, so she turned to Carson, "What is Area 51?"

Carson rolled his eyes, "American top secret alien research facility that the whole bloody world knows about."

"Then why is it top secret?"

"You'd have to ask the Colonel, lass. I'm from the other side of the pond."

Teyla looked even more confused as she followed the rest of the team over to where the man was working.

"Sounds like I owe you an apology," Sheppard said loud enough for Dr. Taylor to hear over all the surrounding noise.

The backward ball cap wearing man abruptly stopped and turned around in surprise. His eyes hidden behind his large protective goggles, he cleared his throat before pointing back towards the wall. "Your little incident didn't make my job any easier."

"Yeah, about that, next time someone's shooting at me, I'll try to take it easier on the engineering team."

"You do that." The engineer cracked a small smile and put out his hand, "Dr. John Taylor."

Sheppard gripped the leather clad hand and squeezed. "Col. John Sheppard. Good to have you here, Taylor."

Taylor returned the grip before letting go. "If you don't mind, Colonel," he waved a screwdriver in the air towards the half repaired control.

"Yep, didn't mean to keep you." Giving the man a friendly pat on the back of the shoulder, he returned to the rest of his waiting team and missed seeing the man flinch. But Rodney didn't.

"Hit the guy a little harder, next time. He fixes your mess and you beat him up."

"What are you talking about, McKay?"

Carson overheard the comment and glanced to see what Rodney was talking about, in time to catch Dr. Taylor squeeze the back of his shoulder and roll his neck. "What'd you do now?" he teased Sheppard, before shaking his head and wandering over to check on the man.

"I didn't hit him that hard." Watching the physician speak to Taylor, he tried to look innocent as both men turned his way. Carson was saying something else and the other man shook his head 'no' but it looked like a losing battle. Finally, setting his tools down, the engineer gave in and headed back towards the hallway as Carson returned.

"I think he might have hurt himself working on the panel and you must have aggravated the injury. Most likely nothing serious. I'll be back as soon as I'm done." He made to follow Taylor before stopping for one last retort aimed at the remaining four, "Try to stay out of trouble while I'm gone."

The team watched him go, but their leader was focused on the other man. There was something about the way the engineer walked, holding the back of his neck, that bothered Sheppard. And when the object of his attention turned around and glanced back, having removed the protective goggles, the colonel took an involuntary step forward.

**TBC**


	13. Chapter 13

**Part 13**

JT controlled his breathing, shoving his goggles up to rest on his forehead, while keeping his pace even as he walked purposefully away from the cargo area. He knew without a doubt that somehow he'd slipped up, and if he turned around, he was going to find Sheppard watching him. He heard Beckett call back to the team, and before he could stop himself, he glanced over his shoulder.

There were times when he hated being right all the time, because this time he'd nailed it. The Hundred Yard Stare of legends he'd heard of but had never actually seen until today was aimed straight at him. And when the colonel took the step forward, the alert gaze of the powerful giant at his side didn't miss the movement. The engineer didn't fail to see the scowl, and when he saw Sheppard's lips move, the initials spoken but only caught by those nearest to leader, McKay and Teyla together shifted their attention away from the doctor. JT knew Sheppard had just put one and one together.

If he was going to get out of this, he had to think of something fast. And that was one thing he was really good at, one of the three reasons he'd been chosen for this mission. His opportunity was close and he allowed himself to smile.

SG: A

A face flickered in Sheppard's memory, like one from the old black and white movies he'd seen on some classic channel he'd watched as a kid. Just a glimpse, but enough of one for a memory to grab hold of and place a name with. "JT," he whispered without even realizing he'd said anything.

He felt Ronon stiffen at his side, the warrior instantly on alert as McKay and Teyla both became quiet. All four understood the engineer's smile as he tipped his head to the figure now at his side, before he faked a stumble and the physician reflexively reached to catch him with a steadying arm, drawing the conspirator's over his own shoulder. There was no time to call out a warning, before JT's arm clenched tight about Carson's neck, cutting off precious oxygen.

"Let him go!" Sheppard called out, watching the Scot's surprised expression change to one of pain and disbelief.

Ronon's blaster snapped up, his aim dead center on JT's head, for any other shot was shielded by Beckett. "I can take him," he muttered, his eyes never leaving the smug expression daring him from down the hallway.

"No can do, Colonel," JT called back, slowly easing further away. When Beckett attempted to pull free, he flexed his arm tighter, causing the physician to gasp for air and claw to free his throat. "Doc, knock it off," he warned, his voice taking on a tone that made Carson stop fighting him.

Ronon, Sheppard, Teyla, and McKay split up, spreading out across the entranceway to the hall, before slowly advancing, pushing JT to retreat.

In return, JT wrapped his free arm around Carson's head, twisting the doctor's skull further to the side, causing an audible groan. "Think you can reach me in time before I snap his neck?" he taunted. The sinister smile returned and he leaned closer to the ear near his lips, "Call off your posse, Doc, or somebody's gonna get hurt."

Rapidly weakening from the lack of oxygen, Carson tried to focus on his friends but found his vision filling with dark spots as his foggy mind diagnosed hypoxia. He struggled to stay conscious, his ragged exertions for each breath making his chest ache. Leaning back against his captor, he felt lightheaded, and something odd pressed between his shoulders. "Colonel," he whispered hoarsely when the hold around his throat lessened.

"Little louder, Doc, doesn't look like they heard you."

Carson ran his tongue over his dry lips. "Colonel," he wheezed again, stronger this time.

Sheppard held up his hand to halt his team. "I'm not going to tell you again, Taylor, let him go before anyone else gets hurt."

JT edged towards the transporter on the opposite side of the far end of the hall. He had maybe twenty feet to go and he was pretty certain that if he kept his hold on his hostage, he could make it and disappear before they could reach him. When Carson feebly struggled again, he tightened the chokehold. "Sorry, but… I've got plans. You want him alive; you'll back off and drop your weapons."

Ronon's arm was rock steady. "I've got the shot," he said to Sheppard but loud enough for all to hear. "Let me take him."

"Do it," the Colonel ordered.

That was all it took. His finger on the trigger, he almost pulled when Carson's voice raggedly urged him to stop.

"Shield," the weakened man gasped, his arms no longer grasping at the arm encircling his throat, instead they were dangling freely at his side. He was barely able to keep his feet under him.

The four team members froze in their steps.

"See, Doc," JT said loud enough for the others to hear, "I knew they'd listen to you." His back now to the wall, he stepped inside the transporter when the doors automatically opened. Giving Sheppard a sloppy salute while holding Carson upright against his chest, he winked just as the doors slid shut. The group caught a final glimpse of the physician as he crumbled to the floor and then disappeared from sight.

"Rodney, stop that damn thing! I don't care what you have to do," Sheppard ordered, as he reached the lift, his fist pounding on the closed panels.

McKay's mouth dropped open. "With what?" he snapped, his empty hands open in front of him. Not expecting a reply, he tucked his earpiece in place and paged Radek, demanding a location for the lift. Unfortunately, the second scientist was unable to give them any more information.

"Well then, track the energy signature of the personal shield," Rodney barked. Whatever answer he got from the Czech caused him to suddenly push Sheppard out of the way and burst forward into the opening transporter doors.

There was Carson just as they'd last seen him, crumpled in an unconscious heap, but now alone. The deactivated personal shield lay dark, tossed into the far corner.

Dropping to his knees, with Teyla right beside him, Rodney hesitantly placed a hand on the physician's neck, searching for any sign of a pulse. It took him three tries to find the right spot, before he located the steady lub dub of a rhythm beneath his fingertips. Glancing up to meet Sheppard's concerned gaze, he could only nod.

That was all the colonel needed. His knee now aching from stiff radiating tension, he squeezed past the figures on the floor and made room for Ronon while barking commands over his own comm. unit. Security ordered to find and detain Dr. Taylor, a med team to be waiting at the other end of the transporter, and a brief message to Weir were all completed before the doors opened once more.

SG: A

Schwartz had a team waiting, not quite certain what he was going to find after the very brief message from Sheppard. When Ronon stepped out first, his blaster raised, the techs and nurses found themselves holding their breath before he dropped it back to his side. McKay was still on his knees holding Beckett's head secure while Teyla murmured words of comfort as the physician struggled to regain awareness. Sheppard stood protectively against the back, his own weapon gripped tightly, ready for anything.

"Everyone but Dr. McKay needs to step out and give us room to work," Schwartz ordered. Taking up Teyla's position, he met Rodney's wide-eyed gaze. "You're doing good. Just keep him still till I can get a collar on him." His own hands making a brief examination, he listened as the scientist relayed what had happened before calling for a backboard and full spinal precautions to be taken. Even though his boss's hands and feet were twitching, he wasn't about to take any chances.

Within moments, they had Carson secure, an oxygen mask pressed to his face as they hustled him down the hallway back towards the infirmary, leaving one speechless off world team standing behind.

And that's how Elizabeth found them. Clearly the past twenty-four hours had taken its toll and now, as they reported what had happened yet again, she found herself watching each member closely. Sheppard and McKay both looked exhausted, Teyla exuded calm with an underlying tension, and Ronon looked very pissed. Stopping outside the doors to Carson's lair, she held up her hand. "It won't do you any good to go in there and get in the way." Before they could protest, she folded her arms and raised a warning brow.

"Somebody needs to stay here, watch the door," Ronon growled. When he took up his position, looking every inch immovable, she relented.

"I need to have my knee looked at," Sheppard added, dropping an arm over McKay's shoulder. "Rodney can help me back to my quarters when they are finished with it."

Not missing a thing, McKay huffed tiredly. Wrapping one arm around Sheppard's waist, his free hand grasping the colonel's tight grip to his shoulder, he edged towards the doors. "I have work to do, not play nurse maid to you. If I'm going to have to wait, I'll need Teyla to retrieve my keyboard."

Teyla quirked a brow of her own, her brown eyes openly challenging Weir to comment.

Elizabeth wasn't fooled. Ready to break up the conspiracy, she paused when her comm. chirped in her ear. "This is Weir," she said. Her face clouded over as she listened. "Did Major Culbert say exactly what happened?" The others watched as she closed her eyes briefly and let out a deep breath. "I'm on my way." Ending the transmission, she looked to Sheppard, her face having aged during the call. "There was trouble with Culbert's mission. We've lost some members. Have your knee looked at and then meet me in the debriefing room ASAP." She turned on her heel and was gone, leaving them standing alone in surprise.

"You heard her," Sheppard said. His arm still over Rodney's shoulder, using the scientist for actual support, he winced as he put weight on his knee. "We've got work to do. Teyla, meet us back here as soon as you see Zelenka for McKay's gear. Ronon," he appreciated the feral look aimed back at him. Patting the side wall before passing through the now open infirmary doors, he nodded, "See someone suspicious looking trying to get in here…shoot first, ask questions later. Anyone has a problem with that, send them to me."

That earned him a grunt from the runner and Teyla took off in the direction of the labs.

Rodney tugged him towards the open doors. "I wonder what happened with Culbert's team. It was supposed to be a quick technology recon."

"I guess we'll find out when we're done here," Sheppard replied.

A nurse met them on the other side of the door, steering both men towards an open bed, before helping the Colonel get situated. "I can either slit your pants, or you can put on a gown, or sit in your boxers" she said. "Your choice."

He watched McKay work his way slowly back to the opposite side of the room towards the pulled screen. Hoping to give the scientist a little more time, he smiled his most charming smile. "Boxers are fine with me." He shifted, scrunching his face as he moved his leg, "Can you give me a hand?"

You'd have thought she'd won the lottery, the smile she gave in return. Pulling the privacy curtain around the bed, Sheppard caught one last brief look from McKay, the scientist shaking his head in disgust, before she had it closed.

Soft laughter and murmuring voices could be heard from the opposite side as Sheppard did his best to keep the nurse busy while Rodney made it over to check on Carson. He found the bed empty and glanced around, wondering where they had taken the physician. When a hand dropped to his shoulder from behind, he jumped, only to find Schwartz staring back at him.

"X-ray," the physician offered while taking the scientist by the arm and steering him to the next bed over. Before Rodney had a chance to protest, he found himself with a blood pressure cuff wrapped around his arm, and his temperature being taken.

"There's nothing wrong with me, you overzealous quack," Rodney snarked impatiently, trying to get away from the damn penlight headed his way.

"You want to wait here for Carson, then you'll humor me," Schwartz snapped back. When McKay got ready to fire off his next round, the physician held up a hand to stop him, tucking his stethoscope in his ears and then holding it over the scientist's chest. "Breathe deep," he instructed.

Rodney relented.

Satisfied, Schwartz leaned back and folded his arms over his chest. "When did you eat last?"

"I had a sandwich an hour ago."

"And breakfast?"

"You were there, same time I was."

"I seem to recall you jumping up and leaving rather abruptly. I don't remember seeing you eat."

"I got there before you. What's with you suddenly deciding to practice medicine?" Rodney bit back.

Instead of an answer, Schwartz just smiled and pushed McKay back against the bed. "Carson will be done in fifteen to twenty minutes. Until then, you can either lay here and relax while I check on Colonel Sheppard, or you can leave. What's it going to be?"

"I'd rather sit in a chair."

"Uh-uh, not an option," Schwartz answered, waving his finger in the air.

Rodney crossed his arms and feet, irritably staring at the smug physician. "Only until Carson gets back," he surrendered.

"Good." He started to pull the curtain shut but then stopped when he noticed the scientist grow rigid. "I'll leave this open so I can keep an eye on you."

Relieved at not being closed in, Rodney scowled and punched his pillow before tipping back and watching Schwartz head across the room. The physician pulled Sheppard's curtain back to reveal the colonel sitting there, his dark sock clad feet waving back and forth on the foot of the bed, his lap covered with a blanket, while he flirted with the nurse. Something must have been said because Sheppard suddenly looked his way, his face full of concern. In return, Rodney shook his head in disgust and nodded to Schwartz.

The physician was talking quietly to Sheppard and suddenly the familiar cocky grin lit up the colonel's face. He said something back but it was too low for Rodney to hear, then turned to give his friend a shrug, holding out his hands like there was nothing he could do about the situation.

Betrayed, Rodney flopped back against his pillow and stared at the ceiling. When someone tapped his arm, he rolled his head to the side and found the nurse that had been drooling over Sheppard now standing at his side. "What?"

She smiled and held out a paper cup. "He said you had a headache so Dr. Schwartz wants you to take some Tylenol."

"I didn't say I had a headache," Rodney grumbled but took the pills and popped them to the back of his tongue.

"He said you would say that, also." She then passed him a cup of water. When he finished, she draped a folded blanket over his chest. "Dr. Schwartz said Dr. Beckett will be out soon." She gave him another pat on the arm, picked up a pile of ice packs, and returned to Sheppard's bedside.

The scientist glared across the room, shifting lower on bed in an attempt at getting comfortable. When Sheppard didn't look back over, too busy watching the quack work on his knee, Rodney shifted again, pulling the blanket tighter across his chest. His eyes traced the ceiling and surrounding instruments, refusing to close, knowing the memories would start if he were to fall asleep.

SG: A

Elizabeth walked past several scientists and techs wheeling cumbersome crates away from the jumper bay. Many looked dirty and disheveled, their usual air of anticipation at having new found technology to work on after returning from such a mission, appeared to be missing, their constant chatter was now eerily silent. She understood how they felt. Loosing anyone from one of the teams left devastation, but loosing four? And on top of that, one of their own could have prevented the loss? Nodding to the two sergeants posted outside of the doors, she stepped inside the bay, in search of Major Culbert.

She found the officer standing beside one of the open jumpers, deep in conversation with one of his men. Tension radiated between the pair, Culbert's hands gesturing angrily between the ships and then to the hallway. The junior officer stood shaking his head, his own hands still at his side.

Whatever answers the major had been given; apparently it wasn't what he'd wanted to hear. He spun angrily on his heel; his right hand falling to the holster attached to his thigh, and almost collided with the head of the Atlantis expedition.

Culbert took a quick step back. "Doctor Weir."

"Major. Am I interrupting?"

He ran his hand over the top of his short cropped hair in frustration. "No, ma'am."

Elizabeth tipped her head to the side, her eyes narrowing in expectation. "Then tell me what happened. How did we loose four people?"

"There was a single remaining Wraith dart, most likely a scout, to keep track of any activity after the culling. When we tried to force it down, it made several sweeps before one of the scientists used some sort of device that just dropped the ship form the sky. By the time I got to the site of the wreckage, Dr. Prope had already dispatched the wraith. It must have been seriously injured from the crash because I only heard two shots."

"Where is Doctor Prope now?"

"That's the problem, ma'am. I personally watched him get in the other jumper, along with all of his crates and gear. But by the time my ship landed, no more than a minute after the one he was on, there was no sign of him or his equipment."

Elizabeth quickly turned all of the events of the past twenty-four hours over in her head. "Colonel Sheppard said the men who attacked him last night in the cargo hold called each other Pope and JT. Right before your team returned to Atlantis, Dr. Beckett was attacked by one of the engineering staff, Dr. John Taylor. Before Sheppard and his team could stop him, Taylor used one of the transporters and is now missing. I imagine wherever he is; he is currently working with your missing Dr. Prope."

**TBC**


	14. Chapter 14

**Part 14**

Once the first jumper landed, several scientists and military members disembarked quickly to unload the various crates and awkward chunks of miscellaneous machines. So intent on their tasks, and making sure to stay out of the way of the second ship as it gracefully descended to a stop, no one noticed Pope as he slipped to the back of all the activity.

He quickly removed his offworld vest and gear, stashing the bulky items behind a large bin of tools, before finding the bag of supplies he'd left earlier. Within moments, he appeared to be one of the engineering team; a ball cap worn casually backwards on top of his head, a pair of tinted wire rimmed glasses resting on his nose. Changing his usual stiff direct posture to one of a more comfortable swagger, he popped a piece of chewing gum in his mouth before melting back out into the bustle.

He nodded to another tech that he didn't recognize while snapping small bubbles between his teeth. The other man only shook his head before helping Pope to lift one of the now scattered about cumbersome containers onto a hand cart, and then several smaller ones on top. "Thanks," the scientist drawled with a grin of false appreciation. Wiping his brow with the back of his hand, he stood up and pressed his palm to his lower back, "Damn things are heavy. You'd think those scientists didn't have enough around here to work on without dragging more scrap back."

"Tell me about it," the other man said with a snort. Wiping dirt and grease off his hands and onto his pant legs, he sniffed, "What do you say we get this load down to the labs?"

Pope snapped his gum again and shrugged, "Sounds good to me." He headed to the back of the cart so that he could push and stay hidden as they made their way to the hallway, before allowing himself to breathe easier. And when he passed the guards at the door, and then Weir, without anyone stopping him, he knew he was home free to begin the next phase.

SG: A

Rodney lasted an entire five minutes before he sat back up, his legs draped over the edge of the bed, and the unwanted blanket tossed off, only to fall in a pile on the floor. With his back to Sheppard, he stared at the empty spot where he expected Carson to be brought once they were finished with the physician's x-rays.

Slowly sliding forward, his elbows coming to rest on his knees as he unconsciously rubbed his hands together; his overactive mind began to build the puzzle. The incident in his lab with David bothered him, especially now that he knew the other scientist had used him to access the central systems to Atlantis. And then, the second incident with the napkin? In the brig? Why would anyone deliberately get someone else addicted to heroin? Because that's what it had to be.

And the packets that Sheppard had stumbled across. What were those for? There was no way anyone on Atlantis could honestly expect to get past Carson and his team while using drugs. Without even realizing it, his left hand ghosted over his right forearm where he'd overdosed himself on the wraith enzyme.

"Rodney?" Teyla spoke quietly from his side, careful not to startle the scientist. When his blue eyes blinked over at her, recognition and a scowl quickly covering his inner turmoil, she tipped her head slightly and held out his keyboard. "Dr. Zelenka wanted me to tell you that he has sent you a file you must look at."

That earned the Athosian an even deeper frown as Rodney took the equipment and typed in his password. "Why didn't he just page me?"

"He said something about 'Big Brother' listening in?" Teyla waited for the scientist to explain what that meant, only to find that she was being ignored as his eyes flickered rapidly over the small display screen. "What is it?" she asked when he suddenly froze.

Rodney looked up but his gaze fixed on some point on the far wall behind her. His mouth hanging open while he was lost deep in thought, he suddenly snapped his finger and hopped off the edge of the bed. "Of course," he mumbled.

Teyla stood still as he paced in circles before her. "Rodney, what…?" she began, only to have her question cut off as the gurney carrying Beckett was pushed between them.

The two stood silently off to each side as Schwartz and a pair of nurses got their friend situated before they stepped up for a closer look. The physician's eyes were closed, his face pale, as he lay still; draped in a blanket with a soft collar wrapped around his neck.

"How is he, Doctor?" Teyla asked when Rodney remained mute.

Beckett's second gave her an encouraging smile. "He'll be fine. Some wrenched muscles in his neck and shoulders are going to leave him sore for a few days, but nothing a mild muscle relaxant and Tylenol can't take care of. "

"Feels like…I was hit by … bloody bus," the Scot whispered to the others surprise.

"Carson?" Rodney hedged closer to the side of the bed, his hand hesitantly tapping the blanket covered arm. When Beckett sighed and slowly dared to open his eyes, McKay grinned in relief. "Hey."

"Hey, yourself," Carson replied with a slight slur and a swallow. His own gaze slowly passed over Teyla and then Rodney as he appraised their conditions, while careful not to turn his head. "You…okay?"

Teyla stepped closer and took his free hand. "We are fine, Doctor."

"Good." He sighed again; his drugged lids closing on their own volition before he jerked slightly and blinked heavily back at Rodney. "Sheppard? Ronon?"

"Sheppard's on ice and Ronon's playing guard dog."

Carson scowled and then gave the slightest of nod in understanding. "Knee…" he breathed heavily before his glazed blue eyes slid shut. "Told 'im… stay off," was his final mumble before drifting in a pain free sleep.

Schwartz motioned for Teyla and McKay to follow him away from the bed. "He needs to rest, but he'll be fine. When he wakes up, I'll release him back to his quarters." Shifting on his heels, he stepped to the side and motioned towards one irritable, scowling, dark-sock clad patient on a bed further down the room. "Somebody tell Colonel Sheppard the news before he wakes up my patient."

Together, Teyla and Rodney made their way back across the room, but the scientist suddenly stopped short beside the entranceway doors.

"McKay?" Sheppard knew by the look on his friend's face that something was up.

Rodney licked his lower lip, refusing to meet the gaze he knew was watching him; instead he focused back on his keyboard. "Um, I need to check on something, and then see Elizabeth."

Sheppard shifted on the bed causing one of the cold packs to slip and fall on the floor. "Teyla, grab him for me and don't let him leave out that door," he ordered while trying to reach for his pants on the chair beside his bed.

But McKay was quick when he needed to be and disappeared out into the hallway before she could catch him.

"Ronon!" Sheppard bellowed, momentarily forgetting the sleeping Scotsman on the other end of the room.

The Setedian poked his head in the doorway. "Sheppard."

Hopping on his good leg while Teyla helped him with his pants, he glanced up irritably, "Don't let McKay out of your sight!" He didn't have to say it twice; the warrior took off at a full run in the last direction he'd spotted Rodney.

Once he was dressed, Sheppard grabbed the pair of crutches Schwartz was holding. "Thanks, doc." With a slight grunt at the tug to his sore chest muscles, he made his way to the door, with Teyla at his side, while paging the control room. "This is Sheppard. I want a security detail at the infirmary immediately." Not waiting for a reply, he then paged Rodney but stopped when Teyla shook her head. "What? We need to find him before he gets in any more trouble."

"I understand, but Dr. Zelenka said earlier that 'Big Brother' is listening. Is it wise to use the main system to communicate?"

"Shit!" His frustration hitting an all time high, he hobbled faster down the hallway. "That's got to be how they are one step ahead of us."

Teyla practically jogged beside him, careful to avoid the swinging crutches. "As I was leaving the lab earlier, Dr. Zelenka was working on an earpiece and he gave me one to give to you."

That brought the hobbling to a quick halt. "You have it with you?"

She nodded and plucked it from her vest pocket.

Sheppard tucked it in his ear and gave it a tap before setting off once more. "Z, what can you tell me?"

"_Colonel, this is secure frequency,"_ Radek promptly replied.

"I figured as much. What do you got?"

"_As I informed Rodney, there have been unusual readings on sensors."_

"You talked to McKay?" Rounding the corner and stepping into the open transporter, Sheppard mentally sent it to the command level.

"_I sent him message on keyboard Teyla took to infirmary."_

"Oh. What'd you find?"

There was a pause before Radek answered. _"I'm not certain, but it appears to be some sort of Wraith…something."_

That got the colonel's attention and he stared hard at Teyla. "Do you feel any wraith?"

She frowned and shook her head slowly. "I do not sense any presence here."

"Radek, Teyla doesn't feel anything."

"_That is what I was trying to tell you. Readings are… sticky. They are unclear. But there is definitely something that is making systems give off warnings and then stop."_

"Could it be from what Culbert's team brought back?"

"_I have not had chance to look over salvage."_

The lift came to a smooth stop and the doors slid open. Stepping out, Sheppard practically ran flat into Lorne.

"Colonel?" the officer stopped when his superior grabbed him by the sleeve.

"Lorne, I need you to get a security detail down to McKay's lab and keep an eye on Dr. Zelenka. I have a feeling that whatever these clowns are up to, something big is about to happen, and I've already sent Ronon after Rodney."

"I'll see to it, sir. Where are you going to be?"

"We're on our way to see Dr. Weir."

Just before Lorne closed the lift, he held the doors when Sheppard turned around and raised his hand. "Sir?"

"Stay off the comms until you see Zelenka. Let's try and get ahead of whoever is working against us." Once the doors closed, he got back to the scientist still waiting on the other end. "I'm sending some help your way, Z. Don't let anyone in the lab until Lorne gets there."

SG: A

Ronon caught up to Rodney at the end of the hall, stopping the scientist with a firm grip to the shoulder. "McKay," he grunted, somewhat taken aback by the angry face that spun around to stare at him.

"I don't need a babysitter," the scientist snarled.

"Good."

Exasperated, Rodney shook his shoulder free before taking a step back, "Then what are you doing here?"

Ronon crossed his arms, clearly not about to be swayed. "Sheppard and Teyla went to see Weir.

"That didn't answer my question," Rodney snapped. When the big man remained quiet, the scientist started to walk away with his free hand waving in the air, "Do you have any idea what is going on?"

"Not really." Looking bored, he waited a moment before prodding Rodney to crack. "Kind of hoping this would be one of those times when you don't shut up and fill me in."

"Oh, that's just… Fine!" Keyboard tucked under his arm, Rodney grabbed the railing and headed down the nearest staircase. "We need to get to the brig and see David. Hopefully he'll be coherent enough to give some answers."

Exiting out to the lower level, Ronon slowed his long pace to keep even with McKay. "He a part of what's going on?"

Rodney stopped and shook his head. "He's the only one who would have used my code. What I can't figure out is why they are using drugs. It doesn't make sense." He began to pace nervously back and forth, his fingers drumming together. "Why would they drug one of their own?"

Ronon stepped up to the closed brig doors and activated the panel. "Let's go ask him."

Rodney stopped pacing and released a deep pent up breath. Tightening his shoulders he glanced inside and noticed a pair of security personnel, a nurse, and a figure lying on a bed towards the back of the room. There was Dr. David Marks, one of McKay's handpicked scientists, strapped down with restraints to his bed.

Memories of his own withdrawal still painfully clear; he hesitated before Ronon urged him forward. "I'm hungry, so make this quick."

That was all it took to get the scientist moving. He pulled an empty chair over to the bedside and sat down, deliberately avoiding looking at the restraints. "David." Not getting any response, he cleared his throat and tried again. "David, it's not too late. Whatever you are a part of, it can still be stopped."

The sweaty head on the pillow flopped restlessly over to stare at McKay. "Give me something," David begged in a harsh voice that had clearly been screaming earlier. "Make it stop."

When Rodney didn't move, the man on the bed struggled against the cuffs holding down his arms, rage suddenly filling his face. "You did this to me!" he spat, his chest heaving as he gasped for air. "Let me out of here before it's too late!"

Seeing the color drain from McKay's face, Ronon stepped around and got in Mark's face. "Too late for what?" he growled, using every inch of his large size to send more fear into the drug crazed mind.

The man began to thrash on the bed, spitting at Dex, and then begging Rodney to make the pain go away. When the runner pinned him like a bug to the mattress and held him still, Rodney leaned forward. "Tell me what we need to know, and I'll get Schwartz."

David's breathing increased in great gulps, his eyes wide open. "Can't… can't tell. JT will rescue me…Get me out."

Ronon pressed a little harder, his eyes black and feral. "I guess you didn't hear then," leaning closer to sweaty man, his voice deadly, "I killed him."

"No! No, they won't leave me here!" David screamed. "You are lying!"

Ronon smiled, his face mere inches away. "You'll never know."

"Pope!" he screamed again.

Rodney began to feel ill, his stomach tightening as the screams before him escalated. Pushing brusquely back in his chair, he spun around to leave, when all of the sudden the room became cloaked in darkness. Several flashes of blue sizzling light burst rapidly in succession before the screaming stopped.

TBC


	15. Chapter 15

**Part 15**

Sheppard clunked his way quickly down the hall towards the main control station with Teyla keeping pace at his side. Finding Elizabeth bent head to head with the gate sergeant, both studying a diagnostic panel while deep in discussion, he impatiently banged a crutch on the top edge of the board. "What happened offworld?" he demanded.

Surprised at the tone, Weir's brow tightened and it was then that the colonel noticed just how tired she looked as she stood straight and met his gaze head on. "My office," her words ordered, shutting down any further comment he might have had. She gave a final direction to the sergeant before leading the way.

When the door slid shut behind them, she sank into the chair behind her desk, her clasped hands clenched white knuckle tight together, resting on a pile of yellow folders. She waited for both teammates to take an opposite seat before she flipped the top file open, spun it around, and pushed it over so that they could read what was inside. "Between McKay and Zelenka, the system has been debugged and we were able to access correct personnel files from the Daedalus. This," she said, tapping the photo displayed on the exposed dossier, "is Dr. Clinton Prope."

Before she could continue, Sheppard pulled the file out from under her hand and then let out a low whistle as he skimmed several pages.

"Colonel, before you get too impressed, the SGC has confirmed that he is not one of ours." She slid over the two more files, "Though we were able to track down Dr. John Taylor and Dr. David Marks. Both appear to have come to the Stargate program through different means, but when traced back far enough, it becomes clear that their files are also fabricated."

"And no one discovered this before they got here?" When she raised a brow and opened her hands, he stared at the last file she still had. "Whose is that one?"

She sighed heavily as she opened the cover and removed the enlarged photo, passing it to Sheppard's waiting hand, before reading off the next page, "General Clinton Arthur Prope Sr.; distinguished US Army officer, retired in 2004."

"Our mystery guy's father?"

She nodded. "He retired rather suddenly and became an outspoken advocate against the military after his youngest son was killed in action in Afghanistan. He claims that the funding that would have normally been used to protect his son had been diverted to too many special interest programs."

"Including the Stargate Program," Teyla said quietly as she studied the photo, before handing it back to Elizabeth.

"Yes."

Sheppard leaned against his seat, wearily rubbing his hands across the top of his thighs and on to his knees. The sore one twinged when he pressed too hard, reminding him to quickly let go. "So, this Pope/Prope guy is here to bring us down? Mess with the program and make us look bad? What?"

"The SGC was unable to come up with any current information on him. What little they were able to find still leaves the past ten years unaccounted for." Elizabeth leaned forward and fingered through the exposed pages, drawing an outdated photo of the General and his sons. "This is the only thing available with Prope Jr."

Sheppard instantly recognized the man in the middle as the one he'd run into down in the cargo area. "That's him."

"Major Culbert identified him, also, as the scientist who took down the dart and then killed the wraith inside."

That made the colonel's head snap up to stare at her. "He what? How in the hell did he do that? What happened? Earlier you said Culbert's team lost some members, who were they?"

Relaying what she'd been told prior, Elizabeth then listened as Sheppard and Teyla described the incident of the attack on Beckett. Pleased to hear that her chief medical officer was not injured seriously, it suddenly dawned on her that they had yet to mention Rodney or Ronon. "Where's the rest of your team?"

"McKay went to check on something, and I sent Ronon to keep an eye on him."

"Any idea as to what…?" she started to ask but stopped when Sheppard tapped his earpiece.

"Yeah, Z, what'd you find?" The women sat impatiently, watching his expression harden, while they waited to be told what the scientist had to say. Whatever it was, it had the colonel suddenly reaching for his crutches.

SG: A

Out of the corner of his eye, Ronon saw McKay abruptly stand the same instant David let out his yell for Pope. Giving the hysterical man one final shove to the mattress, he was on his feet by the time Rodney had taken one step away, just as he spotted movement outside the door. Seven years of running from the wraith left him constantly on alert and every fiber of his being began to scream danger. Throwing himself forward, he tackled McKay to the floor, the same instant the lights went out.

"Stay down," he growled when he heard Rodney groan painfully and then try to shift. A strange blue light sizzled in the darkness, enveloping the individuals in the room one by one, leaving an eerie silence in its wake. Rapidly running out of time, Ronon drew his blaster and fired towards the doorway in hopes of stopping whoever was shooting at them. But before he could fire off a second shot, his body was slammed with a radiating pulse unlike any wraith stunner he'd ever felt, and then nothing.

Rodney's head and chest lay underneath an empty cot with his waist and legs buried underneath Ronon's torso. Hidden from sight, he lay perfectly still as a lone individual cautiously entered the room and made its way to the bed with the drugged scientist. The lights remained off so he couldn't tell what was happening, but when the bed springs behind him creaked and then he heard a slight grunt of exertion, he had a feeling whoever David had been calling for, had finally arrived.

Further sounds of shuffling could be heard as the assailant then left the room.

Rodney let out a pent up sigh of relief before he hesitantly rolled to the side, freeing his legs so that he could sit up and look over the bed. The room was still pitch black, and apparently so was the adjoining hallway because he could make out the bouncing beam of a flashlight as it was carried further away before disappearing completely.

"Ronon," he said cautiously, giving the larger man a shove to what he hoped was a shoulder. Not getting any response, he hesitantly reached out to feel if the runner was breathing, soon relieved to discover a steady rise and fall of the man's chest.

Knowing their one chance to discover what in the hell was going on was getting away, he fumbled in the dark to locate Ronon's blaster before pushing himself to his feet. Reaching out with his left hand for the wall, he stumbled over several unconscious bodies till he made it to the hall, and then followed the path of where he'd last seen the light.

Now would be a really good time for Sheppard to make one of his grand entrances with the cavalry. Of course, Hopalong was currently on crutches, so he started off on his own, leaving a trail of whatever he could spare from his pockets along the way.

SG: A

With the transporter temporarily out of power, Sheppard and Teyla, along with a gathering contingent of security personnel, rapidly took the metal stairs down to the lower level. His crutches tossed to the side on the upper stairwell, the colonel took the steps two at a time, careful to land on his left foot in an awkward hop, using his right knee as little as possible.

"Radek, can you get any life signs in the brig?" he hissed over his comm. unit as the team gathered at the bottom, waiting for his signal to proceed. "I don't know where McKay is, he's not answering any of my calls," he said after a brief pause. "Any chance you can get it running?" Whatever the Czech had said in response left Sheppard exasperated. "Look, I don't have time for this right now. Do the best you can."

The power outage extended to their position and several members had the small lights attached to their P-90's turned on. When Sheppard finally motioned for them to proceed, they broke off in pairs, scattering silently up and down the darkened hallway.

Teyla made it to the brig first and cautiously peered inside, her light sweeping across the floor, illuminating the fallen guards beyond the doorway. A moment later, with Sheppard at her side, she panned over the empty messed bed with its occupant missing as the pair slowly made their way inside. A low groan that was emitted from somewhere on the floor, followed by a thump, had several security members aim their weapons and lights in the general vicinity, only to discover the missing runner lying on his back.

"Ronon," Teyla beckoned, giving the large man a firm pat on the side of his face. He might have been still partially dazed but his reflexes astounded Sheppard and Teyla when his right hand snapped up to grab her by the arm and pull her down to the floor.

From his newly acquired seat on the edge of the empty cot, the dark haired colonel made a grab for Ronon's free arm before the warrior did something he would most likely regret later. "Easy big fella, let Teyla go."

After a brief moment's hesitation, Teyla was released.

"All your marbles back in the bag?" Sheppard drawled with a grin as he aimed the bright beam of his light in the groggy man's face. That earned him an irritated glare.

Ronon dragged himself back up onto his feet and snagged the offending light to aim at the floor before making his way to the open door. "Where's McKay?"

"What do you mean, 'where's McKay?' I thought I told you to stay with him."

"I knocked him to the floor before the firing started." He cast the light to the empty bed and then to the floor. "My blaster's gone." Another sweep of the light and he revealed a scorch mark on the wall near the door controls.

Sheppard was back on his feet, glancing at the fried controls. "Did you do that?"

Dex shrugged, "Thought I'd hit him."

Radek's voice in his ear stopped Sheppard from further comment. "What's going on?" he asked before glancing towards the ceiling. "You're kidding me." Another pause. "No sign of him. How long until you can get it fixed?" Rocking back on his heels as he listened, a painful jolt from his knee irritably reminded him that he should be off the leg. When Teyla rolled a chair over, he gratefully dropped to the seat. "Do what you can, Z. We are going to go look for him now."

Teyla and Ronon stared at him expectantly once they realized the call was over.

"One of the spare naquada generators was used to create a power surge that overloaded all the systems from the brig clear to the East Pier. It's going to be several hours before he and the rest of McKay's team can repair all the damage. Weir's calling in the engineers and scientists from the alpha site to give us a hand."

"Colonel Sheppard," a male voice called from out in the hallway. "Could you come here, sir. We think we found something you need to see."

"On my way," he called out, reaching for the nearby wall to use for support as he stood.

Ronon helped tug him to his feet. "Need a hand?"

"No, just don't tell Beckett," he started to say but stopped as he limped past two security members returning from the opposite end of the hallway, "or Schwartz."

"I believe that is too late, Colonel." Teyla nodded to the pair of physicians who had joined the group, noticing that one was carrying Sheppard's missing crutches, the other had a field medical kit. "It is good to see you are well, Dr. Beckett."

He gave her a smile that turned to a glare aimed at Sheppard. "Did you lose something on the stairwell, Colonel?"

"I was kind of in a hurry, doc. You know how it is."

"Aye, I do. And if I catch you off them again, you'll be finding yourself wearing a knee brace for six weeks while your team goes offworld without you." Carson paused, shot a conspiratorial glance to Schwartz for backup, and them smiled deviously back at his wayward patient, "You know how it is."

With an air of disgusted defeat, Sheppard handed Dex is P-90 and then slipped the dreaded items back under his arms, refusing to give Beckett the satisfaction of knowing that they actually did help. Nodding towards the bobbing lights further down hall, he eyed the doctors, "We're on our way to see what they've found. You coming or staying?" When neither answered, just stood waiting, he raised a brow to his team. "Let's go."

They met up with Major Edison's team, who was waiting for them.

The major tried to hide his smile when he caught the scowl and eye roll from his superior towards the two new tagalongs. "Colonel, we suspect Zats were used to take down the brig infirmary."

Ronon frowned at the unfamiliar word. "What's a Zats?"

Edison held out his hands to show the size. "Zatn'kitel, sir. A Goa'uld weapon that the SGC has acquired for its use back home. Three settings: stun, kill, and disintegrate."

Resting against his supports, Sheppard pointed to the several items held in one of the sergeant's hands. "What do you got?"

Opening his palm, the youthful Marine presented the pieces. "Trash, sir. Someone tore up a powerbar wrapper and littered the pieces down the hall."

Sheppard leaned closer, motioning Teyla to shine her light on the mangled bits of garbage. "Not just any powerbar, but a chocolate one. Any takers on who might leave a trail from a torn up chocolate powerbar wrapper? Anyone?"

Those familiar with the missing scientist either chuckled, shook their heads, or grinned.

Taking the lead, his crutches swinging in determination down the darkened hallway, Sheppard had the rest of the two teams following him at a good clip, "All right crew, let's go find McKay."

**TBC**


	16. Chapter 16

**Part 16**

Atlantis was a virtual maze of corridors with the lights on. And now, stumbling blindly in the power depleted sections, Rodney had to rely on his sense of direction and memorized schematics of the city's layout, to know that they were heading farther and farther from the main base of operations. And if his calculations were right, and of course he knew that they were, the quarantined science station of the East Pier was not too much further ahead.

"Big mistake. Big, big mistake," he chanted under his breath as he nervously clenched and unclenched his stiff fingers around grip of Ronon's blaster. "Should have waited for Sheppard, but nooo, just had to follow the bouncing light." With his back pressed to the cool wall, he tried to peer around the corner, through the inky darkness, towards the dim light ahead in hopes of catching a glimpse of the mystery man.

When the figure began moving again, Rodney switched the blaster to his left hand, then slipped his right to his pants pocket in search of something else he could leave behind, only to come up with a few crumbs, some lint, and a spare stylus to his datapad. He'd used up the power bar wrapper, and then power bar, some distance back, and now realized that if the others were to follow him, he needed to leave another marker. With a resigned grunt of self disgust at getting himself in his current predicament, he placed the stylus along the wall, pointing in the new direction, and started walking once more.

SG: A

Pope shoved the bulky cart to a stop inside the room that he and JT had set up as the base for their little operation. Satisfied that he hadn't been followed once he'd ditched the tech in some forgotten stairwell, he panned his light slowly about the cluttered room, then swore hotly, discovering JT's incomplete project. He checked his watch and scowled. With less than an hour, he'd have to hurry and finish it himself.

Casting the unopened crates he'd brought back from the planet a wary gaze, he paused to remove one of the life sign detectors that he'd lifted from the lab and checked his status. Satisfied that all was as it should be, he set to work. The heavy beams fell into place and soon the small fabricated structure took proper shape. Clipping several leads from the portable power generator to the units control panel, he stood back to admire his handiwork when the safety lights lit up the room in a yellow glow about him.

SG: A

"Found another one, sir."

Edison stood up and passed the chunk of power bar he'd retrieved from the floor to Sheppard, only to have it intercepted by Dr. Beckett.

"Doc?"

Carson glanced up briefly before retrieving the other pieces from his pocket. Shifting them about, he formed a complete bar. "It's all here."

Sheppard raised a brow. "First time I've ever seen him throw one away. Wonder what he'll use next." Before anyone got the chance to guess, his comm unit beeped in his ear. "Z?"

Radek's voice answered quickly, _"Colonel, I have located an energy reading from the East Pier."_

"The East Pier. We're heading in that direction now. Are you able to pick up any life signs? We still haven't found McKay, but I have a feeling we aren't too far behind."

A few seconds passed before the Czech called back. _"Outside of your team, I am picking up four others."_

That got the colonel's attention. Holding up his hand, he stilled the voices talking around him. "Where are they?"

"_One is in area of power fluctuations, two are close together, possibly one is being carried, not far from East Pier laboratories, and fourth is fifteen, twenty meters behind."_

"Z, that last one has to be Rodney. What's his location?"

"_Approximately 125 meters in front of your position."_

Resting his weight on his crutches, Sheppard ran a free hand over his scruffy hair while thinking out loud. "He's almost one and a half football fields away, definitely closer to them than to us. What's he going to do?" He caught the others staring at him, waiting for orders. "Radek, when are we going to get some power down here?"

"_Possibly an hour, two at the most."_

"Any chance you could speed that up a little?"

"_I am not engineer from Star Trek. You want more power, turn on another flashlight. We are working as fast as we can."_

Sheppard's head drooped and he stared at his feet, trying to hide the smile on his face. "Give me what you can and keep me informed on McKay's whereabouts." He didn't receive a reply, but the soft blue emergency lights came to life, flickered once and then stayed on permanently.

"_Better than Star Trek, Colonel," _Radek chuckled over the earpiece before it clicked off.

Sheppard pulled himself up straight on his crutches and cleared his throat. "We're close and McKay's just up ahead of us. In front of him are three others, and they're all on the East Pier. What do you say we go and give our missing scientist a hand before he gets himself in too much trouble?"

SG: A

David stirred, his hand swatting through the air at imaginary visions, as he hung upside down over JT's shoulder in a sloppy fireman's carry. When one of his swings connected with the back of the other man's legs, his position shifted precariously and he came close to being dumped on his head. "What…?" he panted in an attempt to still his gurgling stomach. Not receiving an answer, his breathing picked up, making the spasms in his abdomen increase, causing saliva to drip from his mouth to the floor.

"Knock it off," JT growled, giving the mostly limp body a jerk by the legs.

That did it. Not able to quell his mutinous insides any longer, the 'need' for something screaming through every nerve fiber, David gagged as what little he'd been able to keep down lately, along with burning bile, erupted out his mouth and nose.

The hot moist substance splashed across the back of JT's legs causing him to instantly drop his charge in a pathetic heap to the floor. "What the hell!" he ranted while trying to keep his pantlegs from further touching his skin.

"Sick," came the mumbled reply before a second bout of vomiting occurred. Once finished, he dropped his head in exhaustion, his sticky face planted on the cool floor. "Must be…flu," he whispered, his eyes sliding shut. The sudden pull on one of his arms followed by a sharp jab garnered a moan but nothing more as the warm feeling from earlier returned.

JT stood back and waited. Moments later, a slurred unintelligible humming emanated from the filthy figure sprawled on the floor. "Got to watch out for that flu," he sneered under his breath as he leaned over and tried to figure out what would be the best way pick Marks up without getting any more vomit on himself. The thought of dragging the drugged man by a foot the rest of the way briefly crossed his mind before he sighed, flipped David over to his back, and grabbed the lax man's arms. One good tug and he was moving once more, the limp arms swinging behind him with every step, smacking into the back of his soiled pants.

Reaching the final corner, he stared down the darkened hallway and stopped to glare in anger at the soft glow shining from the abandoned lab. "Pope!" he yelled, his pace increased in agitation. Didn't that muscle bound moron know that the energy signal could be picked up? And to make matters worse, the emergency lighting kicked on, bathing everything in blue.

Pope emerged from the room with his gun in hand, his eyes searching up and down the hallway in search of trouble. It was seeing his partner carrying the third member of their team that made him snort and stand back, giving them plenty of room to clear the doorway before he followed. "Any trouble?"

JT dumped the scientist on the floor in disgust. "Other than that Neanderthal Sheppard brought home taking a pot shot at me? No." He stepped out of his shoes and then proceeded to strip, tossing the soiled clothing to the far corner of the room. "How much longer?" he asked, nodding to the small structure. "Cause I have a feeling our time is running out."

"I wouldn't worry." The larger man shifted several of the smaller crates that he'd brought back to the floor, leaving the largest one ready to be opened. "Everything is going as planned. Once we get sleeping beauty in the box, all we have to do is start the test and get this show on the road."

"You probably want me to do that, don't you? Why do I have to do the crappy jobs?"

Pope leaned forward, all humor gone from his face as he rested his hand on the large crate beside him. "You wanna take his place?"

The threat was clear and JT backed away while slowly reaching down and grabbing David by the feet. A couple of tugs later, he had the sleeping, high as a kite scientist moved to the floor of the set up. Pinching his bottom lip between his teeth, he nervously slid back out, giving Pope a wide berth. "When do you wanna…?" He waved his hand in the air and then pointed to their accomplice.

Plucking two of the red capsules from his pocket, Pope rolled them between his fingers, a feral look filling his dark eyes. "Soon as we get a couple loads ready."

SG: A

From his secluded position across the corridor, Rodney squinted, trying to see what Pope and JT were working on. He was able to faintly pick up the hum of a stasis field and when JT had moved David inside the unit, he suddenly got a very bad feeling in the pit of his stomach.

Edging closer, he pressed up against the outside wall of the lab in hopes of getting a better view. When Pope passed the open doorway to the other side of the room to retrieve what looked to be some sort of a dart gun, he sucked in his breath and held it, hoping the other man didn't hear his thundering heart pounding in overtime.

What did Pope need a dart gun for?

The scientist walked back over towards JT. "Heat 'em up. Both of them."

The sounds of several items being moved around, one of which was the large crate being pushed across the floor towards the structure perked Rodney's curiosity and he moved closer. He wasn't prepared for the arm that whipped around from the edge of the door and grabbed him by the throat. In a flash, he was pinned to the floor, the air crushed from his chest by Pope's knee, the blood cut off from his brain by a thick hand that remained wrapped tightly around his throat. Shooting white stars blinked before his eyes, a roaring filled his ears as darkness flooded his senses. "Stop," he whispered with what he thought might be his last gasp of breath.

The pressure eased minutely and his vision cleared to the point of allowing him to see a blurry face close to his own.

"Doctor McKay, we meet again." Pope's eyes held no emotion as he watched the color slowly return to the grey skin under his hand. Feeling Rodney's adam's apple twitch, he frowned. "Forgive me. Where are my manners?" Easing his grip even further, but still holding fast, he pulled McKay up by the collar to sit, then waved a life sign detector in front of his face. The screen showed all the members in the room.

Rodney could only blink and cough painfully, his throat useless in making any intelligible noise.

"Yes, doctor, I have the gene courtesy of your good Doctor Beckett's therapy. Can't come all this way and not be able to manipulate my environment. What good would that do me?"

Rodney's gaze flickered to the screen, then to David when the scientist began to hum once more.

Tucking the instrument in a pocket, Pope shrugged. "Curious, I suppose, as to what's become of your…," he paused and looked to JT.

The engineer, who was drawing liquid heroin into a dart, looked uncomfortable and refused to meet the gaze. "Assistant," he finally answered.

"Yes…assistant. Seems that the man has a bit of a drug problem." Pope pulled Rodney to his feet and dragged him over for a better view. "But then, " drawing another capsule from his pocket, he held it out and smiled coldly, "I hear you know all about that."

Rodney was sure he was about to be sick, his insides tightening in fear when JT handed Pope a loaded dart.

"Want a little of this, doc?" Pope asked, waving it back and forth, each pass extremely close to McKay's exposed arms. When Rodney tried to take a step back, he found himself pinned against the wall, the sharp point pinching the outer most level of his skin. He turned his head away, no longer able to watch what he'd fought months to overcome.

But nothing happened.

Running his tongue over his dry mouth and lips, he hesitantly turned back to find Pope's dark eyes boring into him.

"I hear it's a bitch to overcome," he said without any sympathy, "so I'm going to grant you a reprieve…for now. You see, my supplies are limited at the moment and giving you a little _'trip'_ down memory lane would be a waste. So for now, you can watch. But… if what we have set up doesn't work the first time, you _are_ going to be round two." Thrusting Rodney onto a nearby stool, his large hand firmly holding the chief science officer in place, he nodded to JT to activate the stasis field around the unit containing David and the large crate. Next he pulled a small remote from his pocket, followed by three small 'pops' fired in rapid succession, and then wafts of smoke drifted lazily upwards from the edge of the crate.

"Ready or not, doc, here it comes," Pope sneered as JT took a hesitant step back towards the door.

Rodney blinked, trying to make sure his eyes still weren't playing tricks on him. If he didn't know better, it looked as though the crate lid was moving.

A moment later, a pale, pasty-white, long-nailed hand reached over the side.

**TBC**


	17. Chapter 17

**Part 17**

Sheppard's team made it to the end of the corridor, more than ready to rescue McKay, when Teyla suddenly froze. Her eyes grew wide as the soft menacing whispers inside her mind taunted her very soul. She would have stumbled if it hadn't been for Ronon catching her by the arm. His own dark gaze pierced hers, finding the answers he needed without asking. With his borrowed weapon held tight in his grip, he became an unstoppable force, running towards the abandoned lab without hesitation.

The others, sensing the dire urgency, were not far behind.

SG: A

Unable to breathe, afraid that any movement on his part might attract attention, Rodney watched in shock while the long fingers slowly tapped and then gripped the outside of the crate. Far worse than any horror movie he could ever imagine, the scientist jerked back, away from the demonic jack-in-the-box that suddenly erupted. He would have fallen from his seat if it hadn't been for the iron tight grip still pinning him to the stool.

The painful pounding of absolute terror in his chest at being so close to the hissing wraith suddenly made what he was witnessing crystallize into an epiphany. The array of jumbled pieces to the puzzle snapped together as the picture of what the intruders to Atlantis were really after became frighteningly clear. "No," he gasped, his hand reaching to his side in search of Ronon's forgotten weapon, only to whimper at finding it gone. Rodney began to struggle, his gaze rapidly scouring the floor and surrounding tables for the gun.

The feel of cold steel pressed into his throat brought his movements to a defeated end. "You can't do this," he croaked, his mouth now dry, the events unfolding before his very eyes in the worst nightmare he could ever imagine.

Pope leaned forward, the warmth of his breath a sickening counterpart to chill of the deadly weapon on McKay's neck. "But, you see, I can." His own hardened gaze fixed on what was about to happen, and to his captive's disbelief, the man sadistically chuckled. "It was all so easy."

Rodney wanted to close his eyes, to suddenly lose his hearing and block out the evil sound of the beast as it angrily searched its small confining enclosure. To not hear the soft humming of the drugged scientist slumped in the corner of the box. To not see the dried dark blood on the front of the wraith from where he'd been injured earlier and then healed. The chief scientist knew, for any wraith to do such regeneration to itself required energy that would need to be replenished…soon.

His gaze flickered back to David, mentally praying that the man was far enough out of it to not know what was about to happen to him. But whoever was running the cosmos at that moment must have turned a deaf ear to his pleas, for the wraith stopped in mid-pace and turned to focus its senses on the individual sharing its prison.

Its horrible jagged teeth gleamed in the pale light of the stasis field as its rage filled hiss caused even Pope to jerk. The long haired demon then rose to its full height and shot out a clawed hand, dragging its prey to its feet. There was no time or weapon that would stop the ravaging of David's chest, or end his sudden screams of absolute terror, before the withered husk of the once brilliant young scientist was dropped to the floor.

Rodney's mind, so entirely trapped in horror of what he'd just witnessed, failed to notice when the beast stumbled after it was finished feeding. The ferocious grip Pope had maintained vanished, but the scientist couldn't find the energy within himself to move away. Unable to peel his eyes from the body, he missed seeing JT take the loaded dart gun and stand ready, waiting for the signal from his partner to shoot.

The wraith staggered several more steps, the once threatening posture diminished as it stood, seemingly confused, in the center of the box. Dark eyes filled with hatred lost focus and for the first time since the emergence from the crate, it appeared vulnerable.

Pope's hand, resting on the controls to the field, cut the power. "Now!" he ordered.

Time froze for a fraction of a second before the entire situation in the room changed. Perhaps the one in charge of the cosmos had heard Rodney's plea, but the answer left much to be desired. For in that moment, Radek and his team managed to complete their repairs earlier than planned and diverted full power to the East Pier. The small, dimly lit lab was suddenly ablaze in blinding light, the piercing alarm claxons began to go off when the sensors picked up the wraith intruder, and Ronon burst into the room, successfully taking JT to the floor in a one-armed drop.

It could have been the end to the entire situation, but it wasn't. It was then that the wraith escaped, and literally, all hell broke loose.

SG: A

Knocked free from JT's hands, the pistol shaped dart gun clattered across the floor and came to an abrupt rest next to the feet of Rodney's stool.

"McKay," Ronon grunted the same time his elbow slammed into the side of JT's head, leaving the man seriously dazed in a crumpled heap. When the scientist didn't move, or even appear to hear him, he cast a quick glance over the rest of the room and spotted the wraith staggering along the back wall.

Pope took that moment to grab the gun from the floor and fire a round, squarely hitting his inhuman target in the chest. The wraith froze momentarily before tugging the object free and angrily tossing it to the side. Its eyes grew darker as the drugs flooded its system. Shaking long strands of now matted white hair, it wavered before stumbling backwards into the connecting room, disappearing from view.

Before Ronon had the chance to charge Pope, the large man snapped the gun back in Rodney's direction, the muzzle mere inches from his heart. "Which do you think would kill him faster; the dart itself, or the compound of pure heroin it contains?" His index finger caressed the trigger, his gaze locked with the runners'. "Why don't we find out?"

"Stop, Pope!" Sheppard called from the entrance to the room. His crutches forgotten in his mad dash down the hallway, he stood propped against the doorway, a 9 mm firmly planted in his double fisted grip. "Step away from McKay," he said in a voice that held little doubt that if Pope so much as twitched, there would be hell to pay.

Unfettered and smiling because he knew the devil had his back, Pope's eyes slid to the side as he totally ignored the colonel and focused on the now standing Satedian. "I came for one trophy, you would be a bonus."

Ronon's own gaze was deadly, "You could try, but I plan on sending you back in a box."

Pope chuckled, his free hand wrapping around the side of Rodney's head before giving the man a jerk off the stool. "I don't think so. You see, right now, you and I both know who has the advantage." He let the gun slip slightly on purpose, his own smile diminished to a sneer, "Unless you want to play this another way." Taking a step back, using the scientist as a shield, he nodded to JT. "We have a job to finish. You can either shoot me, take the chance that I won't do something to the doc here. Or you can step back and let me go after what we came here for in the first place. You see, I can stand here and wait all day. It's not my people that that thing is going to go after to quell its hunger."

Rodney shifted slightly, his glazed expression slowly fading as the shock wore off. The sound of someone talking behind him and the odd sensation that he felt on the side of his head gave him a point to anchor on to, then he focussed, finding Dex standing several feet in front of him. Releasing a pent up shaky breath, he shifted slightly as his eyes traveled across the room, first to the Wraith's pen with David's body, and then to Sheppard leaning rigidly in the doorway. He blinked several times to clear the fuzziness from his head. "Where's the wraith?" he finally asked to no one in particular.

"The question of the hour, Doc," Pope said from behind. Tightening his grip, he looked to Sheppard, "What do you think, Colonel? Where will it go first? Command center? Maybe have Weir for lunch? Or how about the science labs? They looked like a scrawny bunch in there, but then…" he nodded to the wasted form on the floor, "guess size really doesn't matter."

"McKay?" Sheppard called, trying to get Rodney to look back over his way again. There was no way of letting the scientist know that he had an entire team outside of the room, along with Beckett and Schwartz, ready to step in and help. "Rodney?" This time the he got a response and he tried to give the man confidence that they were going to get him out of this. "Pope's not going to do anything stupid. I want you to walk over to Ronon."

The hand shifted from the side of Rodney's head to settle around his throat, the gun once more aimed at his heart. "No," he whispered.

Pope raised a brow to Sheppard. "Seems your boy knows what the smart thing to do at the moment is." He took another step towards the back room, dragging Rodney with him.

A moan from the floor made him pause and he turned his glare to Ronon. "Step away from him. He's coming with us."

That in turn had the Runner look down at JT as the semi conscious man rolled over, one arm flopping freely against the cool surface. The feral smile that made mortal men fear him lit up his face as he took a step back, followed by a sickening snap. JT howled in pain when Ronon's foot shattered bone like dried twigs in the man's arm. "Let McKay go," he growled, pressing his weight further onto the writhing body beneath his foot, ignoring JT's harsh pleas for him to get off.

Pope hesitated only for a second, his rage shuttered behind eyes of indifference. Taking another step towards the back room, his face now impassive to JT's pain, he began to slowly choke off Rodney's airway the same way JT had done to Carson earlier. "Game's over," he said coldly, feeling the body beneath his arm struggle and then begin to sag. "You lose." Now with the edge of the wall about to separate him from the others, he ducked for cover while giving McKay a hard shove to the opposite side of the room.

Already weak from the lack of oxygen, Rodney stumbled hard, dropping to his knees, before a sharp piercing pain struck his left shoulder, knocking him the rest of the way to the floor. Unable to move, numbing warmth enveloped him as he tried to make out the shouting voices that surrounded him while the crack of gunfire filled the air. But he no longer cared.

SG: A

Ronon and Sheppard moved at the same time, both of their weapons firing in Pope's direction simultaneously, but without success. Not waiting for the rest, Dex raced out the back of the room, with Teyla and Edison's team hot on his heels, leaving McKay to be taken care of by Sheppard and the physicians.

"Oh, sweet mother of god," Carson breathed dropping to his knees beside Rodney. The last few minutes had been agony for the Scot to stand outside and listen to what had been happening. When Sheppard had reached out and abruptly dragged him into the room, he first saw JT, but left the man for Schwartz to treat. It was McKay's still figure facing away from him in the back of the room that made his heart stop. The small feathered dart was clearly protruding from the scientist's shoulder.

With the utmost care he slid it out and wrapped it in a glove from his pocket, before rolling Rodney over. Peeling back one eyelid and then the other, then reaching for a pulse, he counted silently to himself before looking up to meet Sheppard's worried gaze. "We need to get him to the infirmary now, colonel. We don't have much time."

TBC


	18. Chapter 18

**Part 18**

Shattered debris from long forgotten glass vials littered the abandoned science stations and connecting hallways. Pieces of wreckage yet to be completely cleared after the storm still lay haphazardly strewn throughout several hallways, making it difficult for Ronon to track both the wraith and Pope. Thinking as a hunter, he knew prey was more unpredictable and dangerous if it was wounded, and having witnessed Marks reaction earlier in the brig infirmary, it was only a matter of time before the wraith would seek out what it believed would sate its need. He would grant Pope a brief reprieve before he ripped the Earther apart with his bare hands, or did something worse.

His back pressed to a wall, gun in one hand and sword in the other, he peered cautiously up an abandoned stairwell. Years of running had fine-tuned his senses to seek out even the smallest sign of wraith occupation; something that Pope knew nothing about, giving him the advantage. Step by step he worked his way further up towards the next level, the hairs on the back of his neck tingling in anticipation at what might await him around the next corner. It was finding a simple strand of white hair, caught along the bottom of a railing, that showed him where the beast had fallen and then gotten back up.

Soft footfalls advanced cautiously up the stairs behind him and he instantly recognized the sounds he associated with Teyla. Not waiting for her to catch up, he continued into the darkened hallway from the stairwell, his eyes adjusting to the dim backup lighting that bathed the area in a blue glow. An eventual tap to his elbow let him know that Teyla had arrived.

"McKay?" he asked without turning around.

"He is still alive," she replied

He nodded slightly, his gaze still searching for the next hint as to where the wraith had gone. "Can you feel it?"

She paused slightly, her head tipped to the side as let her mind listen for the disturbing voice to fill her. It only took a moment and she grimaced. "It is confused. Everything is dark."

"What about the drugs?"

A slow deep breath escaped her as she focused harder. "It," she scrunched her face and rubbed her brow as if in pain, "it is in need." Opening her eyes, she found Ronon now watching her closely, "It is as we felt when needing more enzyme."

His gaze shifted back to the dim end of the hallway, hiding his own dark memories at overcoming the withdrawal. "Sheppard?"

"He is with Dr. Beckett. Major Edison's team is searching the levels below us."

A muffled clatter broke the stillness off in the distance. Holding his hand up to silence Teyla, Ronon began to stealthily make his way further into the darkness with her following closely behind.

The shadow of a lone figure ran from one of the empty rooms, only to disappear around the connecting corridor. Ronon and Teyla ran in pursuit.

SG: A

Carson bit back a curse as he fumbled with the clasps on his emergency pack, time was of the essence and he couldn't spare a second if he wanted to keep Rodney breathing. Finally able to claim the ambu bag and mask, he placed it over the scientist's nose and mouth, forcing air into the lax lungs but getting no response. "Damn it," he mumbled. With a quick glance to Sheppard, he handed the colonel the bag. "Squeeze when I tell you to," he ordered before leaning forward and locking his fingers together. He gave Rodney's chest several pumps and then nodded. They formed a well-practiced rhythm that gradually eased the bluish tinted lips and face back to a pasty white. "Come on, lad," Carson encouraged, trying to ignore the burning sensation rapidly ascending his arms and across his back from continuing his efforts.

"Schwartz, I need you here," he hissed out when he felt his fingertips growing numb. His own injuries from earlier were beginning to take their toll.

The young physician dragged JT over and forced the man to drop to his knees beside the others, tuning out the man's groan when the splinted broken arm got jarred. With the ease of years of experience, Schwartz slipped next to Carson and took over the compressions, relieving his superior. "You okay?" he asked without looking up.

"Aye, just getting stiff." Carson dumped his pack upside down, spilling several vials and various objects onto the floor. Sifting through he claimed a syringe and tore off the plastic before stabbing it into a vial and drawing in the clear liquid. A second later he plunged the needle into Rodney's bicep. "Naxolene," he said to Sheppard who was watching him closely. "It will help counteract the sedative effects of the heroin."

"How long?" the colonel dared to ask when he saw Schwartz shoot Beckett a concerned glance.

Carson pulled himself to his feet, searching the room for something, and then moving over to the abandoned handcart that Pope had used earlier. Dragging it over to where Rodney lay on the floor, he knelt back down beside Schwartz, "He needs to be taken to the infirmary and put on a ventilator until his system can rid itself of the drug. Depending on the dosage from the dart, I'd say for the next 24 hours we will need to monitor him closely."

The two physicians and Sheppard swiftly moved Rodney onto the cart while keeping up their ministrations.

"Colonel, can you get us some help?"

Sheppard was already one step ahead of the Scot. Handing off the bag to Carson, he made his way back to the empty corridor. "Elizabeth," he called over his earpiece, "tell me Lorne and his team are on their way."

"_They are almost to your position now, Colonel. What is your status?"_ she paged back.

"McKay's down, shot with some sort of drugged dart and Beckett wants him in the infirmary ASAP. Ronon, Teyla, and Edison's team have gone after Pope and the wraith."

"_Did you say wraith?" _she quickly replied.

He knew she needed more information but he was too busy waving to Lorne's team coming from around the corner and pointing them into the abandoned lab. "Yeah. Long story, I'll tell you later in my report. Right now, the docs need to take care of McKay and I need to find the rest of my team. Sorry, Liz, I gotta go." He signed off, not giving her the chance to stop him.

Within minutes, a pair of soldiers reappeared shoving the cart, carrying the two physicians and their patient. Another followed close behind with his hand firmly grasping JT while keeping his sidearm trained on the man's chest.

"Shoot him if he so much as twitches, Lieutenant," Sheppard called out.

The young man nodded, a slight devilish grin aimed back at his superior. "Major Lorne said I could if the doc here breathed too deeply."

"Well, you don't want to disobey your direct officer's orders." That earned Sheppard a chuckle from the team that disappeared around the edge of the corridor.

"Sir?" Lorne stepped from the room to stand beside the colonel.

"Pope and a half drugged wraith both slipped out the back of the lab with Ronon and Teyla in pursuit. Edison and his men left to secure this floor and then will advance to meet them."

The pair stepped back in the room and Lorne gazed at what was left ofthe human remains on the floor. "Why did it feed on Marks?"

Sheppard took one last look before limping to the back section of the lab and heading out the rear exit. "I'll tell you on the way."

SG: A

Pope was making good time through the unmapped sections of Atlantis. When he was certain that he wasn't being followed, he paused long enough to fill another pair of darts and reloaded the gun. Once finished, he tucked it in his belt, then removed the blaster he'd picked up when McKay had fallen earlier. He turned it over in his hands, studying the foreign weapon, before aiming it at a far wall and pulling the trigger.

The blast was instantaneous and created a large hole, big enough for him to step through, into another room. Sparks and smoke briefly filled the musty air as a damaged control panel fizzled and died. That made Pope smile.

Taking the life sign detector from his vest pocket, he scanned his surroundings. Nothing showed up other than himself. Satisfied that he wasn't being followed, he began to work his way back toward the general population.

He wasn't finished yet, his mission was still viable. Heading in the direction of another stashed pack, similar to the one he'd left in the jumper bay, he decided it was time to change his appearance once more.

SG: A

"_Teyla?"_

Teyla tilted her head, "Colonel Sheppard?" Ronon paused to look back at her when he heard her speak.

"_What's your location?"_

She glanced behind her and then out into the darkened corridor. "We are entering the third level above the abandoned lab from the farthest stairwell."

"_Any sign of the wraith?"_

"Ronon has discovered several signs that it has come this way. He believes that he spotted it earlier and that it is having difficulties."

There was a pause before Sheppard paged back, a grunt of discomfort coming over the comm. unit. _"Like what?"_

"It appears to have fallen and is having trouble walking at times."

"_You said you were at the farthest stairwell. That means you are headed back towards the main part of the station, right?"_

Teyla saw Ronon nod. "Affirmative."

"_Okay. Let Ronon know that Lorne and I are two floors below you heading in the same direction. Maybe we can catch it between us."_

She passed on the information and the runner merely grunted, his pace increasing as he anticipated catching his prey. "Colonel, what of communications?"

"_Use caution. Pope's had quite a few tricks up his sleeve up to this point, I can't imagine that he'll let this set him back."_

Before she got the chance to comment further, Radek's voice interrupted them_. "Colonel Sheppard, there has been a slight disruption to the power levels on the floor beneath you."_

_What kind of disruption, Z?"_

"_I am working on that now. Appears to have been an energy surge and then failure."_

"_Aren't Edison and his team down in that area?"_

The sound of keys being tapped on a keyboard could be heard_. "Yes. I have been able to locate several life signs but am unable to establish any identities."_

"What are you hearing?" Ronon demanded when Teyla grew silent.

"Dr. Zelenka is informing Sheppard that Dr. Pope is possibly on the floor below him."

"_Z, where is the closest transporter?"_

"_From your position, end of corridor, to your right 20 meters."_

"_All right, everyone, listen up. It appears that we have the wraith and Pope located somewhere between us. The wraith won't be able to access the transporter, but if Pope makes it to one we can lose him pretty damn quick. I want search teams on every floor. All extraneous personnel are to report to their quarters and stay there until further notified. Elizabeth, I need you to initiate lockdown protocol for the remaining piers. Let's try to tighten the noose so they can't go too far."_

SG: A

Pope had heard the burst of static over the communications system, but was unable to listen to what was being said. They must have figured out JT's little intercept and managed to overrde it. Checking the life sign detector again, he scowled at the series of blips that appeared and were now moving in his direction. Quickly depositing the piece of equipment back in his pocket, he then began to run, knowing the transporter was just around the corner.

Just as he stepped inside, the doors sliding shut behind him, he heard someone call out his name and a shot ricocheting off the now sealed panels. Leaning back against the control console, he allowed himself a grim smile, before tapping the key panel for his destination. When the transporter opened, he popped off the control cover, removed several crystals, and pulverized them beneath the heel of his boot. So much for anyone following him now.

The doors slid smoothly open and he cautiously advanced down the deserted hallway, hesitantly peering around each corner in search of soldiers. When he came to JT's quarters, he tapped in the access code and slipped inside unseen. Moments later, he was in the shower with a razor, beginning his next transformation.

By the time he was finished, his dark hair and brows were gone, his pale head tinted from a tanning agent, and light blue contacts concealed his dark eyes. He then took fake blonde brows and a neatly trimmed moustache from his kit and glued them in place, before inserting dental overlays. The starched shirt and slacks hanging on the back of the door, along with the white lab coat, completed his disguise.

He stood back to look at himself in the bathroom mirror. Satisfied that he no longer resembled the arrogant scientist, he set out for the infirmary. He needed JT back if he was to capture the wraith.

TBC

A/N: Okay, looks like I was right... this is going to be 20 chapters. I can see the light at the end and am delighted! Thanks for all the notes! You all are real troopers for sticking with this thing to the end.

I have tomorrow off so keep your fingers crossed. I want this done as much as you do! Jen :)


	19. Chapter 19

**Part 19**

For the first time ever, Carson noticed how cold it felt in the infirmary, how impersonal and violating the medical science could be. Rodney in all his bluster and genius was right; medicine could only enhance or detract the human condition. As a physician, he couldn't build it on the spot, he couldn't turn life off and on like a machine. Everything required how the body would accept or deny his efforts; it was never really in his hands at all. He was just another source that could manipulate the human condition and hope for a successful outcome. And once again, he found himself standing beside his friend's bed, waiting to see what Rodney would decide.

"Dr. Beckett, I have Dr. McKay's labs," spoke a nurse softly at his side, not wanting to disturb either patient or physician.

He sighed and reached for the datapad, nodding his thanks before scrolling through the information. It read exactly as he knew it would. There was little to do but keep the vent pumping oxygen into Rodney's unresponsive lungs, and administer the naxolene to counteract the sedative affects of the heroin. According to the labs, the dose was lethal to humans if not treated immediately. The scientific portion of his brain had to admit that he was curious as to how the dosage would affect the wraith.

"Hey, take it easy!" yelped the other patient in the room.

Carson glanced away from Rodney to stare at the curtained off area in the back to where a pair of guards were posted to keep an eye on JT. With the brig infirmary undergoing repairs, it had been decided that the scientist should be brought to the main facility for care of his broken arm.

"Look," he heard the familiar voice of Schwartz reply, a bit of tension clearly eroding the doctor's usually placating demeanor, "I can do this the hard way or the easy way. If you don't sit still like I told you to, I'll have to try and set this bone again, and again, until I get it right. Is that what you want? Or, maybe I should call in Dr. Beckett to assist me. I'm sure he still remembers your little stunt from this morning." There was movement and then the curtain was pulled back. "Guard, would you please…" he started to say but stopped when JT mumbled something Carson couldn't make out.

The standing lieutenant peeked behind the curtain and then whistled softly while shaking his head and giving Beckett a wink. Pointing to his arm, he then made a shot motion before holding his fingers apart to display the needle size.

Carson allowed himself a small smile at the thought. Just when he thought he'd figured out his second, the man would do something unexpected.

The grin slipped when the infirmary doors opened unexpectedly on the other side of the room and admitted Elizabeth. She walked straight to where he was standing and stopped, waiting expectantly for him to start first.

"He'll be fine."

The tight, worried lines between her eyes eased slightly. "Any side effects like the enzyme?"

"No, that was a stimulant, this is a sedative. He'll be groggy, as if coming out of anesthesia." Giving her a reassuring pat to the arm, he steered her closer to the sleeping scientist. "In a couple of days he'll be back to normal."

She chuckled softly as she relaxed at Carson's encouraging words. "Normal?"

"Well, as normal as he can be."

She watched Rodney's chest rise and fall with the forced air before straightening the already straight blanket.

"Have you heard from Colonel Sheppard and the others?" Carson asked quietly.

Smoothing one final invisible wrinkle, Elizabeth turned to face the physician. "They are spread out over a good portion of the pier with the lab, working their way back towards the main hub. The other piers have all been locked down so the search area is being minimized."

"Have they been able to find the wraith?"

"Ronon and Teyla spotted it and believe that it might be weakening."

He quirked a questioning brow in her direction, waiting for her to explain.

"The teams are all using communications again. Once Sheppard got everyone heading in the same direction, each group reported back in to me to update their status. Teyla told me that Ronon had found hair and that they had heard it stumble."

"With the metabolism of the creature, if it did receive any of the drug through feeding on Marks, and then being shot with the loaded dart, heaven only knows what it is capable of." He drummed his fingers together in thought. "What an asinine idea those bloody fools tried to do," he spat out in disgust.

"About that," Elizabeth nodded to the curtain, "I was going to speak with your guest. I thought you might like to accompany me."

"Aye. Good cop, bad cop?"

"Actually, I was thinking more along the lines of good doctor, bad doctor." Her expression had become neutral, her negotiating game face in play. "Ready?"

"No?"

"Carson, you needn't worry, I've learned my lesson. I'm not willing to cross that line again." Taking him by the arm, she headed over to where guards were stationed before letting go.

SG: A

JT sat on the uncomfortable bed, his arm propped on a pillow on his lap. Once the doctor had finished setting the bone and affixing the arm length cast, he'd left without saying a word, leaving the scientist to wonder what they were going to do with him. His arm ached even with the shot of painkiller and he tipped his head back to stare at the ceiling.

"Mr. Taylor."

He recognized the voice instantly as Dr. Weir's and discovered her standing at the foot of his bed with Dr. Beckett at her side. Deciding that silence was best, he waited for her to say whatever it was she came to say.

"You've failed your mission. You, Prope, and Marks honestly believed you could capture a wraith and smuggle it back to Earth?"

"Who says we failed?" JT shifted on the bed, his eyes growing cold as he stared at her, completely ignoring Beckett. "Marks served his purpose and last time I checked, Pope was still out there leading your boys around by the nose. And then of course, there's still the little problem of the wraith on Atlantis." His gaze slowly shifted to stare at Carson, not an ounce of remorse in his tone, "I could have killed you. One snap and you'd been dead." He paused a moment to sneer, then continued, "Actually, could've killed you twice; you, Sheppard, and that alien bitch."

"Why didn't you?" Carson asked.

"They don't want Atlantis to fail. Hell, you guys are a virtual goldmine out here."

Elizabeth stepped closer, "Who are 'they'?"

"That's the million dollar question, Dr. Weir. Sorry, can't give you the answer." JT sighed and shrugged his shoulders further into the pillow behind him. "Feeling kind of tired, doc, what do you say you two take a hike?" When neither moved, he blinked lazily, "What, not going to try and make me talk? Or are you going to send that big guy of yours in to rough me up? Tried that once before, didn't you?" He sniffed and let his eyes close.

"It's only a matter of time, Mr. Taylor, before we have you and Dr. Prope ready to send back."

"You can't catch God," JT stated matter of factly.

Elizabeth and Carson frowned at each other.

"What's that supposed to mean?" she finally asked.

JT sighed, opened his eyes to stare back at he ceiling before tipping his head to look at the pair. "I'll give you something to chew on while he plays with your Colonel. Pope's father might be military but the man is a crybaby when it comes to getting dirty in battle. Pope hates the bastard and thinks he's a coward. When the old man began demanding funding for special ops to be pulled, the people we work for decided that it was time to teach the old man a lesson. Junior didn't die because of a Taliban bullet." He stopped to smile at the shocked expressions and winked, "Thought you might get a kick out of that."

Carson released a shuddered breath, "Are you telling me, he killed his own brother?"

JT shrugged.

"And that's why he changed his name? So he wouldn't be associated with his family?" Elizabeth asked.

"Oh, hell no!" JT looked at her with disgust. "Pope is God. He can do anything, be anywhere, nothing stops him. It pissed off some of the higher ups that he liked to be called God so we changed it to Pope. Next best thing, huh?" Leaning back, he faked a yawn. "If you don't mind, I need to rest." His eyes closed and he began to hum.

Carson recognized it as the same tune Marks hummed before the wraith fed on him.

SG: A

"_Colonel Sheppard?"_ Edison paged.

Sheppard held up his hand to stop Lorne from entering the next room they were about to search. "Find something, Major?"

"_Yes, sir. We came across the transporter just as Pope was getting in. Took a shot to stop him but he got away. When it reopened we found the control plate removed and the crystals are busted. This one's out of service."_

"Understood. Stay alert and keep your team together. Once I check in with Ronon and Teyla, I'll give you further orders." When the major signed off, Sheppard paged Teyla, "What's your status?"

"_We have reached the end of the corridor and are about to return to the lower level. Ronon does not believe that it went up any higher. By the signs we have been able to locate, it is having difficulties."_

"Have you seen it?"

"_Once at the end of another corridor but it was able to evade us before we got there."_

"All right. You two head down and Lorne and I will meet you at the stairs. Edison took a shot at Pope but was too late, so it's a good bet he's back in the general population. First things first, we need to find that wraith."

"_Colonel Sheppard!"_ Edison broke in over the transmission, his voice shouting excitedly. _"The wraith, sir! Lieutenant Anderson spotted it coming down the stairwell. When it saw him, it turned and ran back up. We are in pursuit. It escaped onto the floor above us, your floor sir, and is now heading in the direction of the medical labs."_

Both he and Lorne began to run towards to the stairwell and intersecting hallway ahead, spotting Anderson already in the hallway pointing in the opposite direction. Edison and the rest of his team soon appeared from below. "Major, maintain pursuit and use extreme caution!" The officer nodded before he and his team took off. "Teyla, did you catch that?"

"_Affirmative, we are nearing your position."_

No sooner did he hear from her, that she and Ronon appeared racing down the steps to join he and Lorne, the team then chasing after the others.

"Edison, where are you?" Sheppard called out while biting back a sharp stabbing pain from his abused knee. He wasn't sure how much more it was going to take before giving out on him for good.

"_It just ran towards…. Son of a bitch! Take cover! Anderson!"_ The sound of gunfire echoed back down the abandoned hallway.

Ronon and Lorne bolted towards the sound, leaving Sheppard and Teyla to follow close behind.

"Edison, report!"

"_Turned back on us sir. Looks like hell." _The major was breathing hard as he continued_. "Got a hold of Anderson but Lewis stopped it before it could do anything by putting a few rounds in its back."_

Sheppard saw Ronon reach the end of the corridor first and not even stop, charging from view with his gun in the air. And Lorne, taking his cue from the Runner, did the same. By the time he and Teyla caught up, they found the group gathered around Anderson, who was lying on the floor grimacing in pain with his team leader at his side. "What happened to him?" he asked Edison. "Where's the wraith?"

"It threw him pretty hard, busted his shoulder." Edison looked up to the colonel and shook his head. "Damn thing is six times worse than any wraith I've come up against, sir. It ran into that room," he said pointing across the way, "and we haven't seen it since."

Sheppard limped over to the door and stood beside Ronon. "Anything?"

"No." He held up the 9 mm that looked small in his hand, "Wish I had my blaster."

"Don't worry. By the time this is all over, you'll have it back." He gave the big guy a reassuring pat on the shoulder before turning back to the teams. "Any idea what this room is?" 'No's' and head shakes greeted him. "Didn't think so." Activating his comm. he paged Zelenka. "Radek. Got any idea what this room is at our location?"

"_One moment, Colonel." _A second later he returned. "_It is the back up morgue used by Dr. Biro. Usually it is empty, but Dr. Marks body was taken there while you were searching for wraith."_

"Any other exits?"

"_Connects with adjoining lab. That room has two exits. One back out to your position, the other to the genetic labs."_

Sheppard closed his eyes, not believing what was happening. "Didn't Beckett find a back way from that lab to the infirmary not too long ago?" Not waiting for an answer, he mentally urged the doors to open to reveal an empty room. "No!"

SG: A

Pope waited until he heard footsteps outside the door before he activated the door controls to JT's quarters. The pair of soldiers walking past paused when they saw him.

"Sorry, doc, but you have to stay inside until the lockdown is lifted."

The intruder smiled, flashing a friendly grin, "Understand that fellas, but I'm needed at the infirmary. Any chance you all could give me an escort? Got a page that they needed me."

The larger of the pair glanced to his partner and shrugged, "Sure thing." Stepping aside, he made room for Pope to join them. "Haven't seen you before. Did you just come in on the Daedalus?"

"Yeah. Don't tell me this is standard SOP for life out here in Pegasus." He held out his hand, "Mike Cochran, pharmacist."

"I'm Lieutenant Davis," the leader said returning the greeting. "This is Sandoval. Stick with us and we'll get you there in one piece. Hate to see a newbie eaten by a wraith on his first day here."

TBC


	20. Chapter 20

**Part 20**

The door to the infirmary slid open, startling the female nurse working on the other side. She relaxed and smiled at the familiar pair of soldiers before spotting the new med team member entering behind them. The trio was in the midst some grand story that left the men laughing loudly and smacking each other on the backs.

"I'll have to remember that one, Cochran," Davis said with a snort while shaking his head in disbelief. "Who'd have thought that gun power and…" he stopped talking when he realized the petite nurse was standing in front of him with folded arms and a scowl. Clearing his throat, he lowered his voice and tried to appear contrite while giving Sandoval a nudge with his elbow, "Looks like it's time for us to leave." With a departing wink he offered a few words of advice to the newbie before heading back out the door, "Marie might be tiny, but she's got a wicked right hook, so try and stay on her good side."

Pope aimed a charming smile full of gleaming white teeth at the woman. "I'll have to remember that," he cast over his shoulder to the retreating pair without taking his eyes off of her. "I'm your new pharmacist, Mike Cochran." His large hand enveloped hers, and she blushed a warm shade of pink when he held on longer than necessary. Totally aware of how he distracted her, he covertly scanned the room in search of JT and spotted beds on separate ends of the room surrounded by privacy curtains. One had to be his partner and the other McKay.

When Beckett emerged from the one on the far end, Pope recognized the look of concern in the physician's face and realized that there was no way JT would garner that kind of attention. Irritation flooded his soul but he kept it in check; now was not the time for revenge.

"Marie," he rumbled, releasing her petite grip and then dropping his hand to rest on her shoulder, he steered her away from that end of the room, "care to show me the dispensary?" A moment later they were out of view, standing in the small area filled with shelves of various medications as well as different machines.

When he paused to pick up a vial, the nurse leaned back against the far wall to watch him. "Did you hear that there is a wraith loose on Atlantis?" she asked while studying the newcomer. "Colonel Sheppard has two teams trying to track it down."

Pope frowned and put the vial back down. "That's what Davis was telling me." Completely in control of his situation, he backed up to look at a piece of Ancient technology and knocked several boxes of gauze to the floor. When Marie bent to retrieve them, after he gave her an apologetic shrug, he quickly pulled a cloth from the bag in his pocket and held it over her face until she stopped struggling. Within seconds he had the unconscious woman gagged and bound to a heavy shelf on the far side of the small room.

"Candy from a baby," he said with disgust while emptying the rest of his pockets of a variety of items onto a nearby shelf. Once he obtained several syringes and loaded them with the heroin, he picked up a few other goodies he helped himself to off the shelves, and then deposited all in the deep pockets of the labcoat he was wearing. He then reached under his shirt to peel free the 9mm with silencer taped to his back, flexed his fingers around the familiar grip and cracked his neck. Hesitating only a second to look at the alien blaster, he left it on the shelf, deciding to stick with tried and true. Although the weapon was powerful, it would be a mistake to take something that he wasn't innately familiar with. Pulling the slide back on his trusty Beretta to load the chamber, he snapped it back in place.

It was show time.

SG: A

Sheppard, Ronon, and Lorne cautiously made their way to the back exit of the lab, leaving Ingram's team to search the remainder of the room and connecting hallway.

When the trio stepped into the stairwell and looked up, Sheppard blew out an irritated sigh, "Never realized quite how many steps there were around here."

Dex shrugged, sparing the colonel's injured knee a quick appraising glance, "You can always stay behind."

Motioning the runner to take point, Sheppard followed with Lorne in the rear. "Nah, I'm not going to let you have all the fun. Plus, I'm not about to let you get first dibs on kicking Pope's ass."

The only reply that comment got was an evil chuckle from the giant. "If you can get past me, he's all yours."

Lorne cleared his throat, hiding a smile of his own as he stepped up beside the colonel.

"Something to say, Major?"

"No, sir."

"Good. Got enough people back talking on my team."

The entrance at the top of the landing was empty and the group found themselves at the opposite end of the infirmary hallway. There was no sign of the wraith, the corridor was empty of all personnel.

"Z?" Sheppard whispered into his headset as they edged out of the stairwell.

"_Colonel?"_ the Czech instantly replied.

"Any sign of our missing wraith?"

"_Negative. There have been no sightings reported."_

"What about the infirmary?"

The clacking of the keyboard could be heard. _"There is your group, seven in the infirmary, and three…"_ Radek paused.

"Three what?" Sheppard hissed, giving the signal for the team to pause.

"_There were three life signs in the supply room across from the infirmary, but now,"_ tap, tap, tap, _"now there are only two. One is moving rapidly and the second…. Oh dear lord..."_

Sheppard swallowed, pretty sure what the scientist was witnessing. "Z? What's going on? What do you see?"

Radek cleared his throat and the others could picture him removing his glasses as he gave the bad news, _"There is only one life sign in the room now, Colonel." _

Guns drawn, the team began to run in that direction as the door to the supply room slid open. There was no movement from within until they were almost to the entrance, then the crazed wraith appeared!

It was filthy, its face covered in spittle, its wide eyes jet black. Blood, red blood was smeared over its hands and up its arms. Actual imprints of someone who'd grabbed it before dying were still wet on its clothing. Howling angrily, it glared and hissed, showing absolutely no fear as it stepped towards the well-armed trio.

"More," it seethed, not even flinching as a barrage of bullets struck it's body. Instead, a sadistic smile swept over its face. Baring its sharp teeth, it lunged for Sheppard.

SG: A

Carson stood at Rodney's bedside, his tired blue eyes fixed on the slim line of the heart monitor. It was really too soon to expect any change and he sighed as he stepped back to look down at the sleeping man's face. The scientist was exhausted, the events of the past day added to the cumulative effects of the enzyme incident and recovery left little in reserve for moments like this.

Reaching out an unsteady hand, Carson grasped Rodney's cool arm and left it there. "Hang on a little longer," he encouraged softly, giving a small squeeze before letting go.

"Dr. Beckett? Carson?" Schwartz interrupted from behind.

Tucking his hands back in his pockets, he turned expectantly to see what his second needed.

The younger physician stood with arms folded, his serious expression appraising his boss. "You look like hell. How bad's the headache?"

Without even realizing, Carson pulled his hand back from his pocket and rubbed it across his stubbled face before running it through his hair. "Bloody long day," he finally said with a sad shake of his head. A twinge from his abused neck and shoulders brought a pained grimace to his face. Not even aware that he'd covered his eyes, the hand that dropped to his shoulder startled him.

"At least go get some aspirin," Schwartz said quietly, "or something strong enough to bring that headache of yours under control. I'll watch over Dr. McKay."

"Aye." Nodding his thanks, he stepped out from behind the curtain and walked towards the small pharmacy set up at the back of the room. An unfamiliar figure dressed in scrubs and a labcoat took him by surprise. "Who are you?" The man smiled, but Carson detected no warmth.

"Your new pharmacist, Michael Cochran. You must be Dr. Beckett." Nodding to where he'd come from, Pope winked, "Marie was just telling me all about you and I was on my way out to introduce myself."

Carson's gaze shifted to the back room and then to the bald man and he frowned. "Michael Cochran you say?" He shook his head in disbelief. "Would you believe I was expecting you to be a woman? The SGC's recordkeeping has been a mess as of late."

"Kind of wondered what was going on." Pope rocked back on his heels and folded his arms over his chest. "You are the third or fourth person I've run into over the past couple of days who I've apparently taken by surprise."

Something about the tall newcomer's attitude made the Scot study him closely. He vaguely recalled the photos that had been passed during the breakfast briefing and this man didn't resemble either of the individuals that Sheppard was seeking. Deciding that all was well, he started again for the pharmacy. "I'll show you around in a bit, just need to get something for a headache and I'll be back out."

Pope stepped in front of him, blocking his way. "Why don't you let me get it for you? I need to learn my way around back there anyways."

"Thank you, lad, but I need to speak with Marie about Dr. McKay's next dosage anyways." Taking another step, Carson again found his way blocked. "What are you doing?" he asked after a third attempt.

"Sorry, doc, but I need to be able to keep an eye on you out here."

Carson's gaze shifted back to the closed off curtain from which he'd come; Schwartz was still with Rodney. Glancing then to the far end of the room, a sense of dread washed over him as he realized who was standing in front of him. "Pope?"

"Got it in one," the big man growled before gesturing towards the area he believed JT to be resting.

It was then that the Scot noticed the concealed handgun sticking out of the bottom of the labcoat sleeve. His headache kicked up another notch as he walked hesitantly towards the curtain, knowing the guard was still back there. "Your friend is on strong painkillers and should remain here a while longer," he said loudly, hoping to give the others in the room plenty of warning. The press of cold steel against the nape of his neck let him know that Pope wanted him to remain silent.

"Open the curtain, " he hissed in Beckett's ear from behind, using the physician as a shield.

"Pope, is that you?" JT called out the same time Carson tugged the curtain open. The sight that greeted each pair created even deeper tension as the guard had his sidearm aimed at JT, while Pope kept his trained on the physician.

"Put it down," Pope warned, "or I will kill him."

The guard didn't move his weapon but his eyes did flicker towards Beckett and in that second Pope's gun moved slightly and he shot the lieutenant. The young man crashed backwards, pulling the rest of the curtain down on top of him, the white fabric covering the bloody hole in his chest and his dead, sightless gaze.

Carson stared in shock at the brutality he'd witnessed before taking a weakened step away from the cold-blooded killer.

"Not so fast." Motioning Carson to move to JT's bedside, he nodded towards his partner. "You ready to get back to work?"

The smaller of the pair nodded and slid toward the edge of his bed, letting his legs dangle over the side before he slipped carefully off to stand on the floor. It took him a moment to gain his equilibrium. Carson watched in disbelief when JT picked up the dead lieutenant's gun and wiped the soldier's blood on his pant leg before adjusting his sling as he came to stand next to the Scot.

Pope looked inordinately pleased, which caused the physician's chest to tighten with fear. "What do you say we go check on your friends, doc?" he grunted, giving Carson a hard shove in Rodney's direction.

"Please, why don't you just leave? Dr. McKay is critical and shouldn't be disturbed. You can see that we treated your friend as we would any patient."

"And I appreciate that, seriously. But, well, we need him, especially now that there's a hungry wraith running around your city," Pope stepped closer, causing Carson to take several more steps back towards the curtain, "as bait."

Certain that he was about to be sick, Carson stopped moving and blocked Pope's path, instead meeting the larger man's gaze head on. "No. I won't let you harm any more individuals in this room. It's an infirmary, not a bloody war zone. Get out. Go find your prize and leave Atlantis."

The briefest hint of respect reflected off Pope before he shook his head. "Sorry, doc, but I have my orders. JT," he waved his gun towards the curtain, "open it."

The scientist took one step but froze when the sound of gunfire erupted from out in the hallway.

SG: A

Entirely focused on the lunging wraith, Sheppard never saw Ronon move before he felt himself shoved with great force across the corridor, causing him to connect solidly with the door to the infirmary. His ATA gene subconsciously releasing the closed panel, he stumbled through and fell to the floor, landing in a heap directly at Carson's feet. He barely had time to recognize the figure standing in front of the physician as Pope before the intruder's weapon dropped to point directly at his head.

"Colonel, you are really starting to piss me off," the intruder growled angrily. He didn't have the chance to say anything more as Lorne came flying through the doorway backwards and crashed into JT, knocking both men to the floor. The scientist howled in pain as his injured arm slammed hard against the surface and the fallen major didn't move, a pool of blood forming beneath him from a gash to the side of his head.

Unable to stay away and needing to help, Schwartz slipped from behind the curtain and leaned over Lorne, pressing large gauze pads against the wound to stem the bleeding. Catching a sideways glance from Carson, he could only shrug and shake his head.

More gunfire sounded out in the hall followed by a loud thud and then silence.

"Ronon!" Sheppard yelled. Not receiving an answer, his chest heaved in anger as he glared up at Pope. "Your prize is coming for you next!"

Rage engulfed Pope and his foot slammed into the injured colonel's wounded leg with enough force that all heard bone splinter

"Argh!" Writhing on the floor, Sheppard clutched at his calf as white hot agony spiked through every fiber in his body.

Pope took a menacing step closer. "Well then you better damn well get out of my way, boy! I should have killed you the first time I saw you."

Carson had witnessed how easy it was for the man to shoot the lieutenant just moments before and realized little would stop Pope from killing again. Garnering courage that he knew he would most likely regret, he lunged over the colonel and shoved the gun away seconds before Pope pulled the trigger. Pain instantly flared through his shoulder like he'd never felt before and he stared in disbelief at the rapid red stain spreading across his white lab coat. His knees suddenly too weak to hold him up, he fell to the floor and tried to focus on breathing. For some reason he knew that was important, he just couldn't remember why.

"Beckett!" Sheppard groaned in disbelief, struggling to reach the physician only to have Pope step between them.

"You don't deserve the loyalty they give you." Whatever else he was about to say was cut off by another loud thump against the outer hallway wall, this time followed by the roar of one very frustrated wraith. "Sounds like your friend is losing. I think I'll give my trophy a hand." With a sneer, he gave Sheppard's bum leg another push with his foot before stepping from the room.

"Colonel," Schwartz called hesitantly, not wanting to bring Pope back in the room. When the dark haired officer groggily looked his way, he nodded to Beckett. "How's his pulse?"

Sheppard's hand trembled as he pressed his fingers to the Scot's neck, finally feeling the weak thrum beneath the tips. "Feels weird, kind of slow," he slurred, the pain making him lightheaded.

The second physician tossed a pillow case over to him. "Pack that on the wound and use pressure. You have to stop the bleeding, or at least slow it down." Getting only a nod, Schwartz shook his head. "How's your leg?"

Rolling the material into a ball, Sheppard forced himself to concentrate as he pressed the fabric beneath the labcoat. Beckett didn't move. "Hurts like a son of a bitch, but I'll live," he ground out. "Lorne?"

"Head wounds bleed and he has a doozy. I should be putting stitches in…" Another angry scream cut him off before all three figures from the hallway collapsed in a tangled struggling mass through the open doors.

The wraith pounced on Ronon, clawing at his face with his sharp nails. "More," it hissed, saliva falling onto the runner. It then abruptly turned and grabbed for Pope who had made it to his feet, fumbling for one of the syringes in his pocket.

"You want this?" he said, waving the needle in the air.

The wraith watched it like a cobra fixated on the snake charmer, only cobra's can't jump across a room. Within seconds it had Pope pinned to the floor, sitting on the man's chest as it tried to manipulate the needle. Hissing and spitting, it jabbed the apparatus into it's hand and was about to press the plunger when a blast of energy shot across the room, flinging the beast backwards.

A second shot scorched through the air leaving a burned mark high against the ornate wall. The few who could actually turn and look across the room discovered Marie standing just outside of the pharmacy with a double fisted hold on Ronon's blaster while trying hard not to vomit. When the need to puke over rode all her senses, she dropped the weapon and fell to her knees, the effects of the chloroform ruling her stomach contents.

Sheppard was closest and he slapped his hand on the floor, trying to get her attention. "The gun," he grunted. "Toss me the blaster."

Her wild-eyed gaze came to rest on him and clarity and recognition followed. Giving the weapon a shove, it skidded across the floor and stopped beside his foot. A second later it was in his hand and he fired several more shots into the wraith before he sagged back to the floor when the monster finally stayed down.

Pope however wasn't finished. Pulling himself to his feet, he made to go after the colonel but was intercepted by the bloody and battered Runner. The two men fought equally, their blows inflicting damage as they crashed into several pieces of equipment.

At one point Ronon had his assailant pinned to the wall but the other man was able to twist in such a way to free himself while plowing his knee into the Satedean's groin. Ronon came back with a twist on Pope's neck that threw the man to the floor gasping for breath.

Pope's legs shot out and cut Ronon off behind the knees, dropping the runner to the fall flat on his face. With just a second to his advantage, he pulled another syringe form his pocket and attempted to jam the needle deep in Ronon's thigh, but he wasn't quick enough.

Grabbing Pope's arm, Dex twisted it around him and jerked upwards, thrusting the needle so hard that it became imbedded in the man's chest, before he slapped his hand over the plunger and expelled the contents into Pope's heart. Holding it there until he felt the scientist grow limp in his arms, he dropped the body to the floor, not caring if the man was still alive.

Sheppard and Schwartz remained speechless, watching as Ronon stood in the center of the room shaking with exhaustion before he sank to his knees beside his team leader. "Sorry," he grunted before tipping backwards and collapsing bonelessly onto the floor.

TBC


	21. Chapter 21

**Part 21**

"_Colonel Sheppard? Colonel Sheppard, can you hear me? Please respond."_

The dark haired man blinked. Or at least he thought he did, he wasn't really sure. All he did know was that someone was yelling in his ear and he was in a world of hurt that started at his toes and moved up. Rolling his head to the side, feeling the coolness of the floor press against his cheek, he tried to focus on the white object in front of his face.

"Colonel," another voice called out and this one didn't buzz in his ear.

"Colonel, look at me," the second voice ordered and he rolled his head to glance in the opposite direction, only to see more white. But this white moved. Blinking, he focused unwilling eyes on the object and discovered it to be Schwartz.

"You back with me now?" the physician asked as he watched the officer carefully.

"Yeah," he said with a grunt, "… I think."

Skeptical, Schwartz lifted the towel he'd grabbed to replace the gauze on Lorne and checked the bleeding. Satisfied with what he saw, he moved quickly to Beckett and removed the makeshift packing. Blood seeped slowly from the shoulder wound and with no response to stimuli combined with finding a weak pulse, he swore under his breath. Carefully rolling the Scot on his side to check for an exit wound, he discovered that there wasn't one.

"_Colonel Sheppard, please respond,"_ the tiny voice continued to page urgently over the earpiece.

When the colonel remained silent, the doctor used his free hand to pat the soldier on the cheek. "Stay with me, John, I need your help."

"Okay."

The answer was sluggish and Schwartz was positive Sheppard was about to go out on him. Determined to keep the injured man awake, he lightly tapped the squawking earpiece, "Good, then answer that. Tell them we need all emergency medical personnel in the infirmary stat." A quick glance about, he realized he needed more than just medical assistance. "Ask for a security detail, as well."

That got Sheppard's attention. Trying to push himself up on an elbow, he saw Pope laying less than a yard away, a syringe still sticking out of his chest. A bit farther on, his wavering gaze located the body of the bloody wraith. Not sure if either were still alive, he returned Zelenka's call. "Z?"

"_Colonel Sheppard, thank goodness. What is your status? Major Edison…"_

Sheppard cut him off. "Need all emergency medical personnel. Send everyone. And security… need security." Whatever the scientist said in reply got lost in a spike of pain that burned back up his bad leg when he felt Schwartz remove his boot. "Argh!" he cried out, his head falling back to hit the floor with a dull thud. He sucked in great gulps of air, attempting to ride out the nauseating throb that ripped through his body.

"Colonel, breathe through it," the physician instructed while cutting the pant leg free to expose the damaged limb. When the usually quiet man whistled softly for a second time, Sheppard had a feeling he was seriously screwed.

"How bad?" he gritted out when the physician cautiously touched his knee.

"Not as bad as it could be, x-rays will tell me more. But it's going take some work and down time on your part if you want to still be team leader." Spinning around on his heels, he leaned back over Carson and checked the bleeding again. Not happy with what he found, he glanced back over to where Marie was slumped against the wall. "How are you doing?" She gave him a weak smile and rolled her eyes. "Good, then get up because I need your help."

It took her several tries before she gathered her feet under her, but once she was up, he sent her after much-needed meds and supplies. She was back a moment later, her arms laden as she dropped to her knees beside him. Clearly feeling better, she ripped open the small package holding the IV set up, and handed it to the physician. "Where do you want me to start?"

Schwartz nodded over his shoulder before focusing on the needle he slipped into the crook of Carson's arm. "Dex needs to be evaluated," he said while squeezing the contents of the IV through the line, trying to replace some of the lost volume.

She grabbed a blood pressure cuff and a handful of gauze and stepped hesitantly over Pope, casting him a sideways glance, before kneeling next to the battered Runner.

He watched her a moment before his focus returned to Carson. Not having enough hands to perform everything that needed to be done, Schwartz nudged Sheppard's shoulder with the toe of his shoe, "Colonel, think you can sit up?" The answering nod of the head appeared slightly unsure, but the doctor didn't have the liberty to pass on using the man's assistance. Tucking the clear bag of fluids under his chin, he grasped with both hands and slowly pulled Sheppard to a sitting position. When it looked as though the colonel was actually going to stay upright, he handed him the bag. "Hold this up in the air until I can get a pole." He received another silent nod and got the distinct feeling that he'd better hurry.

Once on his feet, he glanced in Marie's direction to get an update on Ronon's condition. She had just removed the bp cuff and looked confused, before running her hand down the front of the still man's chest, then tearing open the fabric. Emitting a sharp audible gasp, she looked to Schwartz as they both recognized the unmistakable faint outline of a handprint over the area of his heart. Dried blood and deep bruising distorted the skin, but as she gently swiped alcohol pads over the area, they discovered that there had been no penetration by the wraith to Ronon's chest cavity.

"Doc?"

Sheppard's hesitant call from behind forced the physician to put on his best game face before facing the colonel. "He's going to be okay."

Pain-filled green eyes looked past him to watch Marie a moment longer. Judging for himself that he was being told the truth, he gave a slight nod. He then swallowed, his lids beginning to droop, then snapped them back open when he motioned to Carson. "What about…?"

"I won't lie to you. He needs surgery so I can get the bullet out and assess the damage." Schwartz didn't continue. The sound of several individuals running in their direction from out in the hallway drew the full attention of those who were conscious. Help had arrived.

Moments later, Edison's team and Teyla appeared. They stormed the room with weapons ready, only to find the floor littered with dead and wounded, blood splattered everywhere, and Sheppard staring at them with his jaw hanging open before collapsing backwards like a ragdoll.

"Where's my help?" Schwartz demanded, his hand on the colonel's wrist.

Teyla, at Sheppard's side instantly, dropped to her knees. "They are out in the corridor. Once the wraith has been removed, they may enter."

"Well, then hurry the hell up!" An anguished moan from JT had him on the move again, discovering that the scientist had busted his cast open when he'd been bowled over by Sheppard. Deciding that the man wasn't critical, the physician moved quickly to check on his original patient.

Rodney was well past due for his next dose of medication and Schwartz stepped around the privacy curtain, uncertain as to what state he might find the scientist. Half-open and unfocused, McKay's glazed blue eyes stared straight ahead and he didn't blink or give any indication of awareness when the physician called his name and waved his hand before the scientist's face.

Spinning around on his heels, Schwartz stripped back the privacy curtain. "Where the hell is the rest of my staff?" he yelled, causing several to jump in surprise. Seeing that the soldiers were still hovering uncertainly around the wraith, he'd finally had enough and wanted the infirmary back. "Get that damn thing out of here now!" he ordered.

Major Edison snapped commands and several of his personnel jumped, had the limp alien on a gurney within a matter of seconds, and shoved it from of the room. Countless medical doctors, techs, and nurses then appeared as if flood gates had been opened, spilling bodies dressed in various colors of scrubs that spread rapidly around the injured.

"Marie," Beckett's second called out once he was satisfied that the hellish mess was getting under some sort of control, "Naxolene now!"

The nurse moved swiftly to the pharmacy and was back immediately at his side. "How is he?" she asked, watching as he loaded a syringe and then emptied the contents into Rodney's IV port.

"He's starting to come around, but not enough so as to fight the vent." Standing at the bedside, he rested a hand on the scientist's arm, "Go back to sleep, doctor."

The silent man's lids slowly slipped shut.

"Dr. Schwartz?" someone called from behind and he spun to find Biro leaning between Sheppard and Beckett. "Carson needs to go in now. Are you scrubbing in or do I let Claybrooke take him?"

The orthopedist in question was leaning over the colonel, examining the badly damaged leg. From the look on his face, Schwartz knew the surgeon was ready to get to work.

"Mike?" Claybrooke glanced up, one brow raised in question. "You got him?" Receiving an affirmative nod, Schwartz gestured to Carson, "I'll take his shoulder."

"Stephen, I've got Dex," Biro added. "He's looks worse than something my dog would have dragged home, but I'm pretty sure I can handle him."

"Good." The second in command of the infirmary blew out a deep breath, his eyes drawn to several techs and soldiers on the far side of the room placing a body carefully on a gurney before covering it with a clean sheet. Recognizing the young lieutenant from earlier, he shook his head sadly before his eyes moved to a second cluster gathered around Pope's body. The big man's remains garnered no sympathy and he was dumped on another gurney and then shoved from the room.

"Doctor?" Marie said quietly, her hand falling softly on the physician's arm to get his attention. "They are getting ready to move Carson. Go clean up and change. They'll have him set up for you by the time you're ready."

He suddenly felt bone tired; the adrenalin rush evaporated leaving his knees trembling. Staring down at his blood spattered hands and clothing, he realized just how badly he must appear to the others and nodded silently. With hours of work left, he needed to get his head on straight and get to business. Shoulders stiff, he straightened and set his mind back on the task at hand as he strode from the room towards the closest shower.

SG: A

Teyla walked silently between the occupied beds, stopping to place her hand upon each sleeping man's arm and offer a silent Athosian prayer for strength before moving on to the next. For some strange reason, she felt oddly alone as she did this.

Dr. Weir had stopped by on several occasions during the early morning hours to check on the progress of the various surgeons and to see if another of her team had been returned to the infirmary to recover. Finding little that she could actually do other than get in the way, she would pass Teyla and offer up a small hint of an encouraging smile before she had to leave once more.

"Teyla?" Marie called softly from beside Carson's bed. "Could you come here please?" Watching the young woman walk back across the room, the nurse patted the stool she had been using. "I was wondering if you would sit and talk to him."

Confused by the request, the young woman sat hesitantly as Marie briefly checked the monitors and then made notations on his chart. "Dr. Beckett is sleeping. Is there a problem?"

"No, no, no. I need to find Dr. Schwartz and let him know Carson is coming out of sedation."

"Should he not continue to sleep?"

The older woman smiled and patted the doctor's foot. "He'll need a lot of rest over the next few days, but right now we need to wake him up and make sure he can still move his fingers." Before Teyla had the opportunity to ask her another question, she left.

Teyla tugged the stool closer and cautiously placed her hand over his undamaged hand, careful of the IV now attached behind his knuckles. "Dr. Beckett," she said softly, "it is time for you to wake." A slight grimace twitched at the corner of his mouth and she allowed a smile to blossom across her face. "That is it, wake up."

One of the fingers beneath her hand moved slightly and she tightened her grasp. "The others are all here," she encouraged. "Colonel Sheppard's leg is in some sort of device that I have never seen before. It hangs in the air from wires. Why is that? And Major Lorne, he does not have the skull fracture that was feared." Another finger moved and she smiled as she continued.

"Ronon has three broken ribs, a broken wrist, a dislocated shoulder, and I believe Dr. Biro told me he was fortunate to not have sustained any internal injuries. The wraith did touch his chest, but not long enough to feed. Until he awakes fully, they will not be able to ascertain how much damage it might have inflicted upon him."

This time several fingers moved and she reached out to smooth the stray hairs sticking up above his brow. "The man named Pope died shortly after Major Edison's team entered the infirmary, as did the wraith not long after it was taken to the holding cell. Dr. Taylor sustained more damage to his broken arm and is now in confinement."

"R'ney?" Carson whispered with more air than sound.

She stroked her hand down the side of his face, urging him to open his eyes and look at her. "He is sleeping. Dr. Schwartz had the ventilator removed and he is breathing on his own." Careful of his damaged shoulder and propped arm strapped in a supportive sling, she slipped her fingers beneath the cold ones resting on his chest. "Carson?"

His throat bobbed slightly as he attempted to swallow. Using sheer will power and the dregs of rapidly waning energy, he cracked one eye revealing the slightest hint of blue. "S'kay."

"Yes, as I told you, they are all going to be fine. As are you." Watching his eye close, she gave his fingers a slight grasp. "Carson, can you feel my hand?" Not receiving an answer and since Schwartz had yet to appear, she leaned closer. "Carson, you cannot sleep yet. I need you to squeeze my fingers." It seemed to take forever before she felt the hint of movement, his index finger slid briefly along hers and then stopped. "Very good. You can rest now. We will all be here when you awake."

SG: A

Sheppard was the first to officially wake a couple of day later. Finding Teyla at his side, he raised a questioning brow. When she smiled warmly back at him, spoon and cup of ice at the ready, he knew the others must be okay.

"How long?" he croaked before sucking the cold sliver of heaven down his parched throat.

"How long, what?" she answered.

"Till we can all get out of here?"

Her abrupt laughter turned a few of the medical staff's heads. "You have just woken after sleeping for two whole days, and you want to know when you can leave?"

Shrugging, he rolled his head to the side and glanced to Ronon on his left, and then to Lorne on his right. "Where's the docs?"

After giving him a rundown on all the wounded individuals' conditions, she pointed past his feet and he struggled to his elbows, frowning at the contraption holding his leg up, and then seeing past to catch his first glimpse of Beckett and McKay. Spying only the usual hardware beeping away around both men, he was pleased to see everything 'normal'. "When they gonna wake up?"

"Colonel, none of you are in any condition to go anywhere. What is your hurry?"

He scratched his arm and then settled back against his pillow. Stifling a rebellious yawn, he looked at her and raised the familiar brow, "I'm bored and my big toe itches."

Teyla stared at him in disbelief before reaching behind his bed to pick up and item that he couldn't see. "Then I have something for you," she teased before holding up her hand and revealing two yellow tennis balls.

A devilish smile caused his cheeks to rise and his eyes to twinkle. "Give me those." Seconds later he was rolling them between his fingers like a pro. "So you say nothing is wrong with McKay? He's just sleeping, right?"

"Colonel Sheppard…"

Her call unheeded, the little ball pegged the scientist squarely in the chest.

Epilogue

The steady thump of the rubber ball pounding on the surface of the landing deck, the squeak of gym shoes turning quickly, and bursts of laughter, name calling, and suggestions of questionable heritage filled the air.

"Come on, McKay, even my grandmother could have made that shot. Just put the damn ball through the hoop."

Rodney stopped to lean forward and press his hands to his knees, sweat dripping down his face as he attempted to catch his breath.

"Rodney?" Carson was at his side, plucking out the water bottle he had tucked inside his sling.

With a single-handed wave in the air, McKay snatched the bottle and proceeded to dump its contents over his head. "I'm fine, I'm fine. Just a little winded." Straightening up, he could feel the eyes of the others on his back before he turned around.

"Perhaps you should sit down."

That earned the Scot a scowl of contempt. "Perhaps the geriatric league should shut up," the scientist snapped instead.

"Oh yeah," Sheppard quipped from his spot on the bench, his braced leg sticking out in front of him, "I'm not the one getting beaten by a girl five to nothing."

That caused the scientist's eyebrows to his hairline. "Do you have a death wish? Do you want to go back to Earth in a body bag with that moron Pope?"

Sheppard glanced around McKay to see Teyla standing with the basketball clutched against her stomach, a few loose strands of sweaty hair worked free from her ponytail sticking to the side of her head… and she wasn't smiling. Mouth open, ready to save himself, he closed it when his earpiece chirped.

"_Colonel Sheppard,"_ one of the control techs paged, _"Dr. Weir said to inform you the Daedalus is 15 minutes out and that you are to quote 'Put your toys away before Dad gets home.' unquote."_

Saved by the bell, he grinned up at McKay, "Caldwell's 15 out. Time to clean up."

Lorne and Ronon unlocked the wheels on the portable base of one post while Teyla and Rodney took care of the other. Within minutes, all signs of the basketball court were safely tucked out of sight to the back of the storage bay. And by the time the big ship rumbled loudly in to settle on Atlantis, the team had gathered outside of the far doors to watch in awe.

SG: A

The Daedalus's commander was the first off the ship and he headed straight to the waiting team. His eyes hidden behind his dark sunglasses, he stopped in front of Sheppard, "Colonel, heard you had a little excitement after we left."

Shifting on his crutches, the dark haired man stared back at his reflection in the shiny glasses and shrugged, "Nothing we couldn't handle."

That earned the ragtag group an appraising raised brow but nothing was said as their attention had shifted to watch the prisoner dressed in an orange jumpsuit being led across the landing deck by an armed security team. "We were able to trace him and his partner to a rogue offshoot of the NID, but as you'd expect, by the time the group was located, they were long gone. NID claims they had no knowledge of what was planned."

"Oh, pu-leeze." Rodney had had enough." And you believe that? How long did the States try and keep the gate a secret? You have more secret agencies than anyone I know."

"Actually, Doctor, the SGC was able to confirm Dr. Taylor's background, and you might be surprised to find out he's one of yours."

"What do you mean one of mine?"

"He's Canadian, as was, it turns out, Dr. Marks. And as for the NID off shoot… we traced it to a location outside of Quebec. Seems the States aren't the only ones who like to keep secrets." Arms folded, Caldwell stepped into Rodney's personal space, "Anything you'd care to add?"

Sheppard had a feeling things were about to get ugly and decided to put a halt to the discussion before it went any further. Moving forward on his crutches, he 'accidentally' clipped the commander in the shin as he passed. "Bring us anything good this time? Didn't happen to get the request for a few cases of Oreos, did you?"

"As a matter of fact, Colonel, there is one special delivery for you." Caldwell gave Rodney one final glare before turning around. "Sergeant," he called to a man standing off to the side supervising the unloading, "bring the 'weapons cache' General O'Neill sent for Colonel Sheppard."

"Weapons cache? I didn't request any weapons?"

A minute later the soldier descended the cargo ramp with a black golf bag slung over his shoulder. Setting it on the ground in front of the puzzled officer, he grinned. "Have fun, sir."

Sheppard ran his hand over the top of the clubs, admiring the dark woods, and then reading the hand written tag labeled 'weapons', before looking up and finding Caldwell gazing back…. unamused. "I didn't request these."

"I know. But apparently the general found out about your little - stash - on the last trip and thought you might enjoy these also. He personally told me to let you know that the chipping wedge is bent because of a stubborn tree root. About that time Dr. Jackson choked on the food he was eating and I didn't get to hear the rest of the story."

Carson reached over and plucked free the driver, admiring the shiny club. "Callaway's. The General has good taste." He gave it a longing swing with his good arm, "It's been far too long since I've played a round."

"Now there's something I never would have imagined, a Scottish medical doctor playing golf," Rodney said dryly, earning an irritated scowl from the physician. "Some scientists actually don't have time to go out and play."

"Aye, and some scientists become recluse nasty buggers who spend all their time blowing themselves up on a daily basis, instead of taking a much needed break."

Sheppard grabbed the swinging club before any damage could be inflicted and dropped it back in the bag. "We'll put these away until later." Realizing he didn't have a free hand to hoist the bag, he looked to Caldwell, who in turn snapped, "I don't have time for this," and stalked away in disgust. That left the healing teammates, and Rodney. "McKay?"

"Oh, you have got to be kidding me. I'm not a caddy," he started to rant but the others had turned to follow Caldwell, leaving him with the bag. "I'm the smartest man on Atlantis, saved the city countless times, and here I am demoted to caddy." Slinging the bag over his shoulder, he huffed, glared at the big ship, and then yelled, "Well, at least wait for me!" before lumbering off to catch up to his friends.

The End

A/N: I'm done. Thanks to all of you who have taken the time to read this and to send feedback. Every note was thoroughly enjoyed and did help inspire when I was ready to throw in the towel. Many thanks to Gaffer for her patience and help! I owe you big on this one.

Oh, and thanks to Derry for the med info and to Dr. Dredd for letting me borrow your Dr. Schwartz. Did I miss anyone else?

Until the next adventure, take care! Jen


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